Rïsa
by Iridescent13
Summary: "This world of ours is a series of delicate balancing acts." She whispered, "Tip the scales just a little and the world can either go plummeting into chaos or ascending into harmony. The question is which way will you fall?"
1. Rïsa Introduction

**Rïsa**

Centuries have passed since Dragon Rider Eragon Bromson and his dragon, the blue-scaled Saphira, defeated the Emperor Galbatorix and brought peace to the land of Alagaësia. Upon his departure from his native land, Eragon searched for many years before finally settling on a large valley ringed by near-impassible mountains which he christened Vrenbana. Though the creatures that lived there were strong and fierce, Eragon and Saphira, along with the elves who had made the journey with them, wasted no time constructing a towering fortress alongside a lake in the center. This fortress the rider named Cieráed, the Fire Mountain.

Since then many eggs have hatched and new riders have been made from each of the free races in Alagaësia. The queen of the Elves and Dragon Rider, Arya, along with her green dragon, Fírnen, oversees the newly hatched eggs. Together with the dwarf rider, Tarehlak, and his partner, Gintare, she protects the newly bonded pairs and makes arrangements for dragons and riders to travel to Vrenbana as soon as they are able. Other Dragon Riders have who have returned to Alagaësia have built for themselves several small fortresses which dot the country, and from which they patrol the land, resuming the duties their ancestors performed so long ago. However, some new evil stirs within the land.

Fountains of magic that had long run beneath the surface of the earth are suddenly becoming wild and unpredictable, or else ceasing to exist at all. Strange creatures, twisted and corrupted by this wild magic now stalk the lands. As the situation begins to worsen, the eyes of fate turn to two, young children who walk with the weight of destiny on their shoulders.

**Hierarchy of the Dragon Riders**

Listed in order of senority

**Head Rider  
****Rider:** Eragon Bromson  
**Dragon:** Saphira Brightscales  
**Sword:** Brisingr (Sapphire Blue)  
**Apprentice:** Keres/Vikonyx

**Senior Riders  
****Rider: **Arya Shadeslayer (Queen of the Elves)  
**Dragon: **Fírnen  
**Sword:** Támerlein (Emerald Green)

**Rider: **Tarehlak of Dûrgrimst Ragni Hefthyn  
**Dragon:** Gintare  
**Sword: **Hamarq (Amber)

**Rider: **Narilaer Iceglow  
**Dragon: **Nyokatare  
**Sword: **Lopt'kûlf (Pale Blue)  
**Apprentice: **Bodrin/Rowan  
Koaloth/Rackenbreak

**Rider: **Maira Shaesdaughter  
**Dragon: **Halastair  
**Sword:** Skálufa (Sand)  
**Apprentice: **Thane/ Evaríncel  
Dirlaga/ Atâra

**Rider:** Logrundag of the Ulvat Tribe  
**Dragon:** Mistrider  
**Sword:** Ingveld (Grey)

**Junior Riders  
****Rider: **Rok of Dûrgrimst Nagra  
**Dragon: **Rhyolite  
**Sword:** Myrnen (Orange)  
**  
Rider:** Inna Talrin  
**Dragon: **Chryssa  
**Sword:** Kuldrguliä (Gold)

**Rider: **Grundir of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum  
**Dragon: **Bitxi  
**Sword: **Delois (Lilac)

**Rider: **Kakirvog of the Malvok Tribe  
**Dragon: **Carnelio  
**Sword: **Hjarnask (Pale Red)

**Rider: **Nortavog of the Malvok Tribe  
**Dragon: **Stenfeon  
**Sword: **Hjaregja (Pink)

**Rider: **Gareth Stevenson  
**Dragon: **Tourmal  
**Sword: **Vágra (Blue-Green)

**Apprentices:  
****Rider: **Keres White-Eyes  
**Dragon: **Vikonyx  
**Sword: **N/A

**Rider:** Ralihirn Startracker  
**Dragon: **Adurngala  
**Sword: **Skjórmen (Turquoise)

**Rider: **Bodrin Kensson  
**Dragon: **Rowan  
**Sword: **Laufnyr (Pale Green)

**Rider: **Ethrunor of the Ulvat Tribe  
**Dragon: **Diruyera  
**Sword: **Jierdum (Blue)

**Rider: **Thane Fiachreson  
**Dragon: **Evaríncel  
**Sword: **Kveykva (White)

**Rider: **Koaloth of the Dorak Tribe  
**Dragon: **Rackenbreak  
**Sword: **Ekarma (Brown)

**Rider: **Dirlaga of Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn  
**Dragon: **Atâra  
**Sword: **Draumren (Royal Purple)

**Rider: **Aidah of Dûrgrimst Gedthrall  
**Dragon: **Huojin  
**Sword: **N/A  
**Master: **Undetermined

**Rider: **Karida Doerunner  
**Dragon: **Klinder  
**Sword: **N/A  
**Master: **Undetermined

**Rider: **Hathairg of the Galtor Tribe  
**Dragon: **Dardris  
**Sword: **N/A  
**Master: **Undetermined


	2. Prologue: Part 1

**In the Beginning: Part 1**

The stone floor was cold and rough beneath her as Keres slowly rose back to wakefulness. Her head throbbed painfully as she struggled to open her eyes and she ceased her efforts, electing instead to lie still on the floor for a few more minutes. From somewhere to her left she could hear several people speaking, their voices muffled as if she were hearing them from a great distance. As the pounding in her temples began to subside, she tried yet again to open her eyes. This time she succeeded.

For a few moments, there was only a faint, flickering glow that sent light and shadows swirling across her clouded field of vision. Then, as the room came into focus, she found herself staring at a rough-hewn stone wall. Turning her head slightly, she saw that the light came from a single, flickering torch that was bracketed high on the wall. Pushing herself to her knees, she raised a hand to massage her aching skull. Her thoughts felt thick and sluggish, as though they were sliding through molasses. Something was bothering her, though for the life of her she could not remember what it was. Something wasn't right.

With a sudden gasp, her thoughts broke free of the haze and she snapped to complete wakefulness. Memories came flooding back to her. She had been playing on the mountainside near the small hut that she shared with her mother. She had been running, chasing the mountain deer that fled before her like shades into the shadows beneath the trees. She recalled the headlong charge down the side of the mountain, feeling the giddiness that precedes falling as her legs and arms flailed wildly. She had outstripped the young deer whose white spots still showed on their hides. She remembered the sense of weightlessness that had overtaken her as she had thrown herself off the edge of a low cliff, reveling in the wind that screamed in her ears as she plunged into the glistening pool far below. She remembered squelching up the low bank of the pool, feeling the mud squish beneath her bare feet. And then . . . nothing.

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she struggled to remember what had happened next. Vaguely, as if she had seen it in a dream, she recalled a shadow that had fallen over her, drowning her small, seven-year-old body in its bulk. Someone, or something, must have struck her. Most likely someone, she reasoned, glancing around at the room. As she did so, she noticed a single, wooden door barely taller than she was. It was heavy and bound with iron with an iron handle. She pushed herself to her feet, having to pause a moment to steady her still-shaky legs. Moving to the door, she tested the handle. Unsurprisingly, the door did not budge.

Voices sounded from the opposite side of the door. She pressed her ear to the cracks, but try as she might, she could not make out what they were saying, though she recognized at least six distinct tones. Several were harsh and barking, but there were two that surprised her. One was a husky tone that was so soft that Keres could barely hear it, though it could not have been more than ten yards away. The other was a growling, guttural tone that carried clearly through even the thick wood of the door. Closing her eyes, Keres whispered, "Thverr dryr un atra eka hórna."

###

It was a soft knock on the door of his room that woke Thane. For a few seconds, he lay on the silken sheets, staring up at the ceiling. The sunlight streaming in through the window glistened off of the gem-encrusted murals that decorated the ceiling. Five dragons chased each other around the ceiling, each of them painted with near life-like clarity and with shimmering gemstones where their eyes should have been. When he had been younger, he had wondered if the dwarf artist who had painted the picture had melted real gems for the colors. Now that he was older, he was certain that was not the case, but he still could not fathom how the woman had managed to give the dragons such beautiful sheens. In the shifting sunlight, the dragons appeared to flex their massive muscles in rippling waves of green, blue, red, silver, and gold.

The knock came again and this time, a man's voice sounded from behind the wooden panel. "Prince Thane, are you awake?" After a few moments it continued, "Sir, you must get up now. Your parents and brother await you in the dining room."

The words barely penetrated the haze of sleep that still surrounded Thane. Then, as reality caught up with him, he bolted upright. Today was _the day!_ Throwing off the covers, he dashed over to the basin of water that sat on one side of the room and pulled the lever to the right, sending a stream of cool water plunging into the large bowl. Stripping off his shirt, he splashed the water up over his head and shoulders, shaking much as a dog would when it dripped into his eyes. The water was shockingly cold and it sent trembles down his spine. Still, it also drove any lest vestiges of sleep from his head. Hurriedly toweling himself off, he rushed to the closet and flung it wide, tugging out the clothing the servants had picked out for him.

The well-made, green shirt and black trousers were delicately embroidered and so new that the scent of the tailor's shop had not yet completely faded. His mother had been quite adamant that both he and his brother required new outfits for the Presentation Ceremony. His father had known better than to protest, so a servant had been dispatched and the garments had been fetched. Secretly, Thane would have been more pleased if he had been allowed to wear the small set of armor that his father had gotten him. He always felt that he looked more heroic when he wore it. However, he had long since learned that matters involving clothing were best left to his mother if he didn't want to spend the next week avoiding her. So, with a shrug, he slipped out of his trousers and tossed the garment to one side, where it fell in a crumpled heap.

He tugged the shirt over his head, feeling the soft material slide like water over his smooth skin. Though he could not identify the tailor who had made this particular outfit, Thane had to appreciate the fact that the clothing was, at least, comfortable. He had, all too often, had to suffer through long ceremonies in garments that were too heavy for the summer or too light for the winter. The light shirt would keep him cool as he waited beneath the blazing sun. It took only a few minutes for him to be fully dressed and tugging at the heavy, oaken door that separated his room from the rest of the castle.

The servant was already gone, but several maids bustled through the halls, dusting and cleaning as they went. They greeted Thane cheerily and by name, to which he responded as his mother had taught him. The curtains about each window had been pulled back to let in the warm, summer sunshine. Though the castle was black as night in the morning glow, it was surprisingly cool and comfortable inside. A breeze drifted lazily through the halls, winding in and out of each open window and providing a near-constant stream of fresh air even to the inner parts of the building.

Usually he would have slowed his pace to enjoy the beauty of the day, but not this day. Today he fairly ran through the corridors, taking sharp corners at speed and barreling down flights of stairs. Several times he had to swerve so as to avoid an imminent collision with a horrified looking maid. Even so, it still was a good five minutes before the door to the dining room finally came into sight. Pausing, he brushed a hand through his ruffled, black hair and straightened his shirt before laying a hand against the door and pushing.

###


	3. Prologue: Part 2

**In the Beginning: Part 2**

Keres waited until all the voices had gone to make her move. After listening to the conversation outside her cell for what seemed like hours, she had garnered enough information to figure out where she was and what twist of fate had brought her there. The dwarf who had captured her had boasted brazenly about it to all who would hear, bragging that he had subdued the white-eyed witch-child. It was from his words that she had gathered that she was currently imprisoned in the dwarf city of Buragh. As she had listened to his tale of watching her fall from the sky, and from an inhuman height no less, to land unscathed in the water below, she had cursed her lack of caution. Mother would be furious with her. The black haired woman had always warned Keres to stay clear of the dwarf city, warning her that the dwarves were cruel and suspicious of outsiders, particularly those they did not understand.

Not that the warnings had been necessary. She and her mother had twice been chased from their homes by dwarf warriors who pursued them ferociously for days before the mother and daughter had been able to give them the slip. During those chases, Keres had often amused herself by casting spells to foil their attackers, or else make the chase more difficult in some way. Now, she wished she had heeded her mother's advice to keep her abilities a secret. The room she had been placed in was guarded by wards which prevented her from using magic. She had discovered this, much to her chagrin when she had first attempted to unlock the door with a few whispered words in the Ancient Language.

Now, she hunched over the tiny key hole, working at the lock with two small, metal rods that had been fashioned from the hairpin she had dragged from her tangled locks. After what felt like hours, she heard the faint click of the lock and, as she tugged lightly on the door handle, it slid back a few inches, allowing a silver of outside to show through. It was night, as she had suspected by the lack of voices, but even through the crack she could see that guards had been posted directly outside the door. Though she had expected it, she still felt a tinge of frustration ripple through her. Reviewing what her mother had taught her about spells of concealment and illusion, she muttered three, short sentences in rapid succession. She didn't dare try to combine them, lest she fumble on the wording and compromise this slim chance she had at escaping.

She eased the door open, praying that her spell would keep the wood and iron hinges from creaking. The two guards didn't seem to have noticed. They stood, oblivious to the young woman who stepped from inside the cell and closed the door quietly. She paused, glancing up at the full moon high above. It would be necessary to wait for a cloud to blot out the silvery light or the dwarf guards would see her shadow, which she did not yet know how to conceal. She had only to wait a few moments before a long, dark cloud drifted over the face of the shining orb. On tip toes she crept past the guards, praying to the gods that at least some dwarves were patrolling the streets. She had never been to Buragh, and as such, had no idea how to get out of the city. With luck, a patrol would take her right past the main gate and she could slip out without much trouble.

She moved quietly across the open space that separated the cell from the rows of houses, quickening her pace as she neared the stone structures. She had barely managed to dart behind one and out of sight when the cloud shifted and the moon's light touched the city once more. Keres froze, her back pressed against the outer wall of the house as she waited to hear an alarm bell clang. None came. She breathed a sigh of relief, lowering her head. As she did so, she found herself staring into a puddle of water left over from the previous day's rains. High above, the crescent moon came out, flashing silver in the water and reflecting her face in sharp relief. She had a round face, the face of youth, and it was flawless except for a single scar that traced a crescent shape of its own from just below her left eye until it nearly touched the corner of her mouth. Long, straight hair fell to her shoulder, white as freshly fallen snow. But it was her eyes that disturbed her the most. The myriad of spells laid upon her by her mother in the hour of her birth had served dual purposes. They had saved the life of the weak, malformed child, but they had also removed all traces of color from the irises of her eyes. They now stared, blank and white, expect the black pupil in the center. In spite of herself, Keres shuddered.

Struggling to shake off the feeling, she squared her shoulders, set her jaw, and darted in the shadows of Buragh.

###

The mood at the breakfast table was curiously subdued. Thane's mother, Amaraye, greeted him with only a strained smile, while his father only nodded in response. Across the table from them, his twin brother, Thaddeus, looked up at him and, in a passable imitation of their father, nodded seriously. Thane sighed. Twins they may have been by birth, but they were as different as the sun and moon.

Thane's short, dark hair fell around his head, black bangs falling into his glimmering green eyes. Thaddeus had inherited their mother's brown hair, which he pulled back in a long ponytail that shone with good health and care. Thane had retained their mother's green eyes, while his brother boasted their father's dark eyes. Even their builds were at odds, Thaddeus' slim, slender build contrasting starkly with Thane's broad shoulders and barrel chest. People often joked that the gods had taken all the features of the parents and cast them like a die, picking features for each child at random. However, the most striking difference was in their personality. Thane recalled years of resentment that his brother had constantly revealed Thane's misdoings to their parents. Days spent wandering the city after dark had ceased after his brother revealed that Thane had been sneaking out at night. Tricks played on the household staff had quickly reached the ears of their mother, who had subjected the young boy to vicious glares and lectures, and their father, who had struggled to maintain a straight face.

However, when they had each been given their own rooms, Thane had begun to realize a newfound appreciation for his brother. Quiet and serious the boy might have been, but he matched Thane's skill with the weapons the castle Weapon Master had trained them in. Though his strength far exceeded his brothers, the speed with which the other boy moved and struck quite evened the playing field. In contrast to Thane's excitement, the other boy looked nervous.

Seating himself beside his brother, Thane pulled a plate of bacon and eggs toward his plate, asking, "Are they here?"

For a few moments, no one spoke. His mother's mouth visibly tightened as she lowered the apple slice she had been about to eat. It was his father who finally responded, not looking up from a piece of parchment that hung over the edge of the table, "They arrived last night."

"When do we get to go see them?"

"Patience, Thane." Despite her strange mood, his mother's voice vibrated with the familiar calm and poise that he was so accustomed to. "They are weary from the long flight. Do not expect to see them until this afternoon."

A tinge of disappointment tempered Thane's excitement as he began to shovel food into his mouth. He had hoped to meet the Riders this morning, but it seemed that even that would have to wait. He had known that the Dragon Riders would arrive late the previous night, coming all the way from Sunvarda, the Rider's fortress near Dras Leona. It astounded him that they could move from place to place so quickly. Journeys that would take weeks on foot passed in a manner of days beneath the wings of the dragons.

No one knew the route the Dragon Riders would take through the country. They kept it a secret, only alerting the local ruler days before their arrival. It was a good security tactic, as it meant that criminals would not have the opportunity to plan a coordinated attempt to steal the prize the riders carried: dragon eggs. It had been two years since the last ceremony and Thane had watched the proceedings with wide eyes, painfully aware that it would be another two years before he would be eligible to be presented to the eggs. He did not know of anyone in the capital who had been selected, but he had heard tell of human riders who had been selected from some of the smaller cities in the empire. And now it was time. Today was the day that he would finally get to present himself to the dragon eggs. Today was the day he would get his chance to fulfill his lifelong dream: to be a Dragon Rider.

The family lapsed into silence for a long while. The chink of silverware clattering against silver plates was the only sound in the silence. The quiet was broken when a door off to one side of the room opened and a young page entered, his chest heaving with the speed of his journey. He strode into the room and stopped a respectful distance from the table. Bowing he proclaimed, "My King, My Queen, the Dragon Riders Gareth Stevenson and Rok of Dûrgimst Nagra send their greetings, and ask the King if they may begin setting up for the ceremony. They will to begin as soon as possible."

King Fiachre looked up from the parchment, a goblet pausing half-way to his mouth. "They wish to begin already? They only arrived a few hours ago."

The boy shifted, "A crowd has already gathered outside the gate to participate in the ceremony. Several have attempted to sneak into the castle through more . . . unsavory means."

Exchanging a glance with his wife, King Fiachre nodded, "Very well, tell the servants to prepare the garden within the hour and inform the Riders that they are most welcome to come and set up at their convenience."

The boy bowed, turned, and vanished back through the door.


	4. Prologue: Part 3

**In the Beginning: Part 3**

Keres had just come within sight of the outer wall of Braugh when the alarm bells began to sound. Although she had been waiting for them, the sound still made her stomach clench and a shudder of fear ran through her. Around her, the city exploded into a buzz of activity. Dwarf voices cried out from every direction and the tramp of boots broke the silence of the night. Ducking into a side alley to avoid a group of warriors who were hurrying in tight formation toward where she had been imprisoned, Keres reviewed her situation.

She still had no idea where the city gate was. She had intended to follow the first patrol of dwarf guards she had seen until they passed by the main gate and then slip away. However, it appeared that the gods had conspired against her. She must have picked them up just after they left the main gate, for they had traversed most of the way around the city without a single opening through which she could escape the city. And now someone had discovered her disappearance and the city had taken on the appearance of an overturned anthill. Escaping would be nearly impossible now. Even as the though crossed her mind, she heard the distant boom of stone doors being shut. _Damn. _Taking advantage of the dust raised by the passing troop, she dashed along the street, praying that the sounds of chaos around her would drown out her own, pattering footsteps. The rough stone made her feet hurt, but she sprinted onward, ducking behind crates or barrels whenever she encountered another patrol.

But there was nowhere to go! The gates to the city were shut and by now, there were surely guards posted on every wall. She needed somewhere to hide, somewhere she could wait out the confusion until the alarm had died down. Glancing around over the tops of the houses, she spotted, some ways off to her left, a single, stone structure that stood above the others. A giant, cylinder of grey stone, it towered high into the night, riddled with large, black spots that Keres realized a moment later were holes carved into the rock. It alone, of the entire city, seemed silent and slumbering.

She headed for it, taking as straight a path as caution, and the strange, dwarf designed streets would allow. Still, it took her nearly 10 minutes to reach the structure. Twice on her journey, a dwarf had spotted her disembodied shadow rippling along behind her. The first appeared to have shrugged it off as a trick of the light. The second, however, realized exactly what it was and had given chase. Only by vaulting two fences and utilizing her prodigious speed has she managed to escape.

So it was that she found herself, panting and exhausted, at the foot of the tower. A massive, metal door barred the entrance and no spell she could create would open it. Realizing that she had not the time to wait and pick the lock, she had sidled around the cylinder until she stood directly beneath the opening. She stood, mentally measuring the distance up to the dark, gaping hole. Had she been at full strength, there would have been no doubt she could have reached the opening. As it was, the spell that hid her from view drained more of her strength with every second. As the pounding of boots revealed another patrol headed her way, she made up her mind. Bracing herself she whispered, "Audr."

The drain on her strength was phenomenal as she rose, shakily, in to the air. At first she moved smoothly up the rock, but as her energy ebbed, the motion became jerky and slow. Stretching up her arms, she caught the lip of the rock as soon as it came within reach and pulled herself in, ending all of her spells. The cave, for a cave it was, was much deeper than she had originally anticipated. It extended back in a large, black void that hid the end from her sight. But it was not the void that caught her attention. No, what drew her was what looked like a mound of pillows and soft blankets piled into a mound off to one side of the cave. And sitting on the mound, nestled atop the blankets, were three enormous, glistening gems.

###

Thane gaped, open mouthed, at the two dragons that now stood sentinel in the garden. Though he saw dragons regularly, if every two years could be counted as regularly, their stature and beauty never ceased to amaze him. The nearest to him, lined up as he was with the other children of the empire, was a dragon whose scales sparkled with a brilliant blue-green hue. Across from him, a slightly larger, bright orange dragon shuffled its wings, casting flecks of light across the spectators who lined the yard. Between then, and on either side of a raised bier, stood the two riders. The rider of the blue-green dragon, a man whose name was Gareth Stevenson, watched the proceedings with keen-eyed interest.

His garb was fine, though not so lavish as to be unwieldy should he need to fight. His shirt was of a soft, white cloth and his breeches where a dark, deep shade of blue that matched his eyes. His head was perfectly shaved and contrasted by a wiry beard that masked what was obviously a strong jaw-line. His companion, a dwarf, was attired as if for battle. A sparkling coat of mail hung from his shoulders. His fists, which appeared as blocks of stone attached to the ends of his arms, were tipped with a series of spikes that glinted dully in the sunlight. A helm hung from the saddle his dragon wore. At the sides of both the riders hung the embellished scabbards that Thane knew held their swords. _Rider's Swords!_

One by one, the children were allowed to approach the bier and stand before the three dragon eggs which sat on silken pillows. Thane thought he had never seen gems that could equal the beauty of the three eggs that now glistened in his garden. The nearest to him was a pale green, like young leaves. Veins of a deeper green showed around the surface like a root system beneath a plant. Next to it sat an egg of a bright, sky blue. At first, Thane had believed it was merely reflecting the sky above, but as clouds began to drift across the sun, it became apparent that the blue coloring would not waver. However, it was the third egg, the farthest from him, that caught his attention. It was a dazzling, snow white, the brightest white that he had ever seen. As the sun's light touched it, the egg seemed to glow from within, emanating a halo that shimmered and shifted.

Thane shifted anxiously from foot to foot, mentally counting the number of people in front of him for the twelfth time. His father had insisted that he and his brother take places in the line, despite the fact that the riders had offered to allow them to go first. The King had stated that if the families of the other children had been waiting outside for hours, then it was only right that they should be allowed to go in the order they had arrived. Thaddeus stood in front of him and Thane could see the rigidity in his brother's shoulders. Leaning forward he whispered, "Are you alright?"

Thaddeus looked back and Thane suddenly realized that his brother's face had turned bone-white. For the first time since mother had caught them playing in a mud-puddle at their aunt's wedding, Thane saw raw fear in his brother's face. "Thane . . ." Thaddeus whispered, "What if one of us gets picked?"

"What do you mean?"

Thaddeus swallowed, "They'll take whoever gets picked. We may never see each other again, or mom and dad."

"You make it sound like we'd be going to prison." Thane protested, "If one of us gets picked, he gets to go be a Rider! A real rider Thad!"

Thaddeus shook his head, "I never wanted to be a rider. I just want to grow up and be a King, like father. But what if a dragon hatches for me?"

Placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, Thane shook him, "Thad, relax. If a dragon should hatch for one of us, then it will mean that it saw something that that we ourselves do not. A dragon would not hatch for someone unprepared, nor would it hatch for someone who doesn't want to be a rider."

A faint bit of color returned to Thaddeus cheeks as he murmured, "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" Thane sincerely hoped that his smile didn't tip his brother off to the massive lie he just told. He had no clue what made a dragon hatch for someone, beyond the legends that had been spawned in the years since the Rider War. Glancing over at his parents, he saw that they were both staring concernedly at the young princes. Thane waved, certain that his mother knew, or at least suspected, some of what was going on.

The hours wore on as the sun crept higher toward its midday peak. Thane could hear the mutters as the eggs showed a frustrating lack of inactivity. For the first hour of so, the crowd had been completely silent. However, as interest had begun to wane, several of the watching families had departed with their respective charges. The number of children between him and the bier dwindled until, at long last, Thaddeus stood at the head of the line. Just as he made to step forward, the man named Gareth held up a hand to stop him. Thaddeus froze.

Turning to where the King and Queen sat on their movable thrones, he declared, "King Fiachra, you realize that in presenting your sons, Thaddeus and Thane, to the dragon eggs, you accept any consequences that may occur therein. Should one or both of your sons be selected by a dragon, they and all their heirs relinquish any claim to the throne. They will renounce any allegiance they have to you as their father and king, and will swear allegiance to the Riders. Nor will you have any power over them, for the riders answer to no ruler save Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, and Saphira Brightscales, daughter of Vervada."

Rising to his full height, King Fachre inclined his head, "Their mother and I accept all responsibility in plain sight and hearing of these witnesses. If one of our sons is chosen, it shall be as you have declared O' Rider."

Gareth nodded and Rok pointed to Thaddeus. "You, boy, step up to the eggs."

Glancing back to give Thane a worried look, Thaddeus ascended toward the bier.


	5. Prologue: Part 4

**In the Beginning: Part 4**

Keres stared in wonder at the treasures that lay before her. They were shaped like eggs, but of a size that no beast she had ever seen could match, not even the sharp-beaked Fanghur. Keres slowly strode toward them enamored by the unparalleled beauty of the gems. One was a royal shade of purple, the next a clear, bright yellow like a sunflower, and the last, an inky, tarry shade of black. Yet as the moonlight stuck them though the opening to the cave, she could see flecks of other colors within the veining of the gems. The purple one possessed thin strips of white that only served to imbibe the color with even greater depth. The yellow gem had streaks of dark gold within it, like a rock which had yet to be mined. And the third . . . she could only gaze, dumbstruck, at the third and final gemstone. Crystalline flecks glistened with a rainbow of colors as the wavering moonlight danced against the black surface.

With trembling fingers, she reached out and touched them. The gems felt warm, as though they had recently been handled. Even this was troubling knowledge was not enough to draw her away. She picked each of them up, examining them with ever increasing delight as she found them flawless, without blemish or scratch. As she picked up the black gemstone, a shiver of something she could not place ran through her. The silver light from outside reflected from thousands of tiny points within the stone.

A deep rumbling growl interrupted her thoughts emanating from the darkness at the end of the cave. She froze. Her breath caught in her chest as the sound grew louder, as if whatever was making it were coming closer. Gathering her courage she slowly turned her head to face the noise. A pair of cold, grey eyes glistened from within the darkness, eyes that were larger than she had ever believed they could be. Then the eyes moved, coming toward her with deliberate slowness. Inch by inch, a huge, triangular head emerged from the darkness. It was covered in slate-grey scales that were darker than the stone surrounding it. A serpentine neck followed and the head moved toward her until it hovered just in front of her. Keres mind went blank excepting for a single sentence that repeated itself over and over again. _Gods help me, a dragon!_ Then it growled, exposing fangs that were nearly as long as her forearm.

The sound was low, menacing, and filled with anger. As if in answer, a sharp squeak cut through the deep, gravelly tone. The growl ceased as something akin to surprise flitted through the grey eyes. At the sound, Keres' head had snapped down to stare at the black gem she still held in her hands. It squeaked again and she felt the stone vibrate slightly. Her instincts screamed at her to drop it, but her fingers refused to obey the command. Another squeak split the silence and echoed around the walls of the cave. Then a new set of vibrations rippled through her hands. Something within the stone was moving, striking the outer covering.

Finally coming to her senses, Keres set the stone down on the floor and began to back away from the dragon. As she made to step back, however, the dragon bared its teeth again and the snarl cracked out like a whip. The command was clear. _Do not move. _So she stayed crouched on the stone floor, watching the gem wobble back and forth. The squeaks had increased in volume and frequency. Then there was a long, grating crack followed by another squeak that sounded almost frustrated. Leaning forward slightly, Keres saw that a long, slender crack now ran the length of the gem, starting at the very tip and running down to the base. The creature inside shifted ever more wildly and, with another squeal, the stone split into two halves. A tiny dragon, dark as the night of the new moon, tumbled out head over tail.

###

Thane watched with apprehension as Thaddeus moved tentatively toward the bier. Halting, he stood directly in front of the three eggs. With a shaking hand, he gently touched each of the three eggs. Seconds passed, then a full minute. The eggs remained motionless. The crowd had fallen silent, as they always did when a candidate was presented to the eggs. As the seconds dragged on, however, murmurs of conversation began to arise from the crowd. Normally, a child would stand before the eggs for a full three minutes to watch for any sign of movement. Thaddeus stepped away before Gareth could even tell him to move. With evident relief, at least it was evident to Thane, he walked back to where his parents sat and took a seat on the cushioned bench by their feet. Privately, Thane felt his own twinge of relief that his brother had not been chosen. If his brother had been chosen, that would have been one less egg that could possibly choose him.

Gareth looked over at where Thane stood and nodded, "Approach the eggs."

With slow, measured steps, Thane strode toward the place where the eggs sat. Though he made every effort to look dignified, he stumbled over a loose stone halfway there and nearly fell to his knees. His cheeks burning, he righted himself, glancing up sheepishly at the two riders. They were determinedly looking away, but he couldn't help but notice the faint twitching at the corners of Rok's mouth. Behind him, he could hear the snickers of the watching crowd and the candidates still left to be presented. For a heartbeat, he was tempted to look over at his parents for comfort, but he held himself back. If he was chosen, he would not be able to look to them for strength any longer. He would have to make his own strength.

Straightening his shirt, he climbed the short flight of steps and stood in front of the eggs. The reflected sunlight threw color onto his white shirt and flecks of light spattered his face. From this close, each egg looked as though it had been encrusted with gems. An image of the glistening dragons on his ceiling flashed before his eyes and he closed his eyes, breathing a quick prayer to whatever gods there may have been. He raised a shaking hand and placed it on the pale green stone. It was warm beneath his fingers, which was to be expected considering how long it had been sitting in the sun. The surface was perfectly smooth, as if some master sculptor had chiseled it from a pale emerald. But for all his admiration, the egg remained motionless.

He turned his attention to the sky-blue egg. Yet again, he had to fight the strange sensation that he was staring into a fallen piece of the sky. He tried to imagine the dragon that would hatch from that egg. Against the vast heavens, it would be well-nigh invisible. As the seconds ticked by, he felt a growing sense of panic. The egg had not moved. It may have been a stone beneath his now shaking fingers. Feeling his heart begin to race, he turned his gaze to the third and final egg. The white egg. As he had thought from before, it was not a chalky white, not bone white, but the white of freshly fallen snow. It was a white so dazzling, that even as he stared at it, his eyes began to water. He reached out to it. His tiny fingers brushed the smooth, hard surface. Nothing happened. As trepidation overcame him, he pressed his whole hand, fingers and palms, hard against the egg, closing his eyes in an effort to keep the tears from leaking out.

_Squeak!_ Thane's eyes snapped open as a faint vibration ran through his fingers. _Squeak!_ The vibration came again, this time more solidly, and the egg shifted slightly on its cushion. He looked sideways, into the face of the human rider, who was watching the proceedings with a faint smile on his lips. Turning his head still farther, he locked eyes with his parents. His father was leaning forward in his throne, eyes riveted on the white egg. As his gaze met Thane's a broad smile began to spread over the older man's face. His mother, in contrast, lost all color from her cheeks and her hands went rigid on the arms of her chair.

The egg had begun to rock back and forth so hard, Thane feared it might fall from its perch. Then a faint tapping sound reached his ears. It came first from one point, then another, then a third. Thin, tendril-like cracks appeared right at the top of the egg. The tapping suddenly increased in intensity and number. The creature within could sense that success was near. The cracks spread outward even as Thane stared, entranced. Then a few fragments of the shell burst outward and, through the small hole, Thane saw a small, white muzzle poke its way to the surface and draw its first breath of fresh air.


	6. Prologue: Part 5

**In the Beginning: Part 5**

The black dragon thrashed its limbs, squeaking angrily as it attempted to right itself. Keres almost reached down to help, then she saw the tiny, needle-sharp teeth that glistening in the moonlight when the dragon opened its mouth and quickly withdrew her hand. Finally managing to furl small, crumpled wings against its body, the dragon gained its feet and raised its head to view its surroundings. Though the eyes were as black as the body, she saw flecks of color within them, much as she often saw in the opals her mother favored.

The baby dragon was now surveying its much larger brethren. It stepped forward unafraid, sniffing suspiciously as the larger dragon dipped its head to better view the new hatchling. The smaller dragon had a narrow head and a long neck ridged in tiny bumps, the forerunners of what would be formidable spines. Its wings were crumpled from being inside its egg, but they folded neatly against the body. The long, slender tail waved slightly as the dragon moved, often threatening to upset the tiny creature's balance and send it toppling over.

Then Keres trembling knees finally gave way and she sank to the cave floor. The baby dragon's head snapped around toward her. Keres froze. The small dragon regarded her curiously for a moment before slowly moving toward her. They gazed into each other's eyes, black eyes into white, as the distance between them narrowed. The dragon squeaked again, though this time the sound was softer. Tentatively extending her arm toward the creature, Keres opened her right hand, presenting her palm to the dragon much as she would a strange dog. The dragon's nostrils flared as it sniffed her fingers. Then, pushing its head forward, it nudged the center of her palm with its nose.

A rush of burning energy seared through Keres, the likes of which she had never felt before. The power lanced up her arm and made its way through her like a lightning bolt. She cried out, jerking her hand back and pressing it against her abdomen as she doubled over. Her entire arm tingled as though she had shocked herself. Her forehead pressed into the cold, cave floor as she swore softly to herself. A soft tickle of air brushed her cheek and she turned her head a few inches to see the small dragon watching her carefully.

It cocked its tiny head and squeaked again, reaching forward to sniff her face. As the soft, lusterless black scales brushed her cheek, Keres flinched, but there was no corresponding jolt this time. Still cradling her right arm, the young girl sat up and reached out with her left to touch the small dragon on the back. It arched against her fingers like a cat. In spite of herself, a smile broke over Keres face. "You are rather adorable, aren't you?"

As if in response, she felt a touch on her mind. She stiffened. Her mother had occasionally touched her mind if Keres was out of earshot and her mother needed her to return home, but this touch was different. It was questioning, curious, and, more importantly, completely alien. She brushed the consciousness with her own and saw the dragon's wings flare slightly. Then the questioning probe came again. Speaking with both her thoughts and her words, she murmured, "I am Keres."

_We are well met indeed Keres. _A second, more ominous presence broke its way into her mind like a thunderclap. A vast, alien being overwhelmed her thoughts, filling her head with a growling voice like the roaring of a large river. She felt small and feeble beneath the newcomer, like a sapling that stood in the shadow of a mountain. The gray dragon leaned down until it could regard her with a single, glistening eye that was nearly as big around as a shield.

Blinking, Keres responded. "That was you? But, you're a dragon."

_I am._

"How can you talk?"

_The same way your dragon just talked to you. We are not born with your speech. It must be learned, just as your human children learn it. Until that time, we can speak only in symbols, as wild dragons do._

Keres was about to ask why it had not bothered to speak with her earlier when another, more pressing matter occurred to her. "My dragon?"

The large, grey dragon let out a low, barking cough. Though her mental link, Keres could feel amusement rolling off the great beast and realized, with a flush of embarrassment, that it was laughing at her. _Aye, young Keres. This,_ he gestured to the small dragon that was now curling its way onto her lap, _is your dragon. And you are her rider. _

###

It took nearly 10 minutes for the small, white dragon to finally extricate himself from the egg. It had taken almost half that time for the dragon to enlarge the hole at the top of the egg enough to where he could extend his head into the open air. The process had gone faster since as he had managed to work his shoulders through and then his torso. With a final heave, the small creature wiggled free of the shell and stood proudly on the cushion. The whole garden had gone completely silent. None of the onlookers had spoken during the time the dragon had been prying himself free. Now, as the empty shell tumbled into the grass, a great cheer went up from the watchers.

A hand descended on Thane's shoulder and he looked up to see Gareth standing beside him. The man gestured toward the small creature. "Present your hand to him."

"It's a boy?"

"Indeed"

"How do you know?"

_Because I told him so. _The voice was like a rolling avalanche and, startled, Thane looked around for the source. The cheering crowd appeared not to have heard it. It took Thane a few moments realize that the sound had come from inside his head. The baby dragon appeared to have heard it too, for he lifted his head to look at the large, blue-green dragon whose head now loomed over them. The dragon twisted its neck to stare at Thane, bright eyes the size of dinner plates. _Your dragon is a male._

Thane's face broke out in a broad grin, "My dragon . . ." Doing as Gareth had instructed, he extended his left hand, palm outward, to the small dragon. With an incredible amount of dignity, the small dragon reached its nose forward and brushed the tip of his muzzle against Thane's palm. The boy screamed, recoiling as pain seared through him. He would have fallen and lain, writhing on the ground, had the dwarf rider not stepped up to hold him on his feet. As the pain began to recede, Thane looked up at the two riders through watering eyes.

To his surprise they were grinning even more broadly now. At first the sight made him angry. Who were they to find amusement in his pain? Then, following their gazes, he stared down at his hand. There, in the center of his palm, was a raised, silvery patch of skin; the Gedwey Ignasia. On the raised bier, the small, white dragon was now being greeted by his two larger counterparts. They lowered massive heads to inspect the newborn, sniffing him and huffing out soft breaths that fluttered the still-damp membranes of the dragon's wings. When it noticed his gaze, the hatchling stepped forward, leaping gracefully from its perch to land nimbly on his shoulder. As the boy started, the dragon dug tiny claws into the fabric of his clothing. Craning its head around, it watched him, a thin black circle the only distinction between the iris of his eye and the sclera.

The dwarf pounded Thane on his other shoulder. "Well done lad. Now, turn to the crowd and present your mark."

Feeling elation welling up inside of him, Thane turned to the still-cheering crowd and raised his left hand. The cheering grew into a deafening roar as the crowd screamed their approval. Then he saw his family. His father had risen to his feet and was applauding along with the others, a broad grin of approval on his face. Thaddeus was also cheering, his hands waving wildly. Then Thane saw his mother. Amaraye had yet to regain the color in her face, but as he watched her, she smiled and wiped a streak of tears from her cheeks. Then she lifted three fingers to her lips and kissed them. Thane smiled at her. From his side, the white dragon watched the proceedings with bright interest.

Then the dwarf touched him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Dragon Riders."


	7. Chapter 1

**15 YEARS LATER**

**Chapter 1**

She was flying just above the trees, skimming the highest branches with the tips of her outstretched wings. The world was strangely muted, as if she was viewing it through a pane of clouded glass. Only the shadows of the trees below, and her own shadow which dominated wherever it fell, stood out sharply. A chaotic whirl of smells assaulted her nose. The soft, earthy scent of the soil and the trees combined with the warm, pulsing scent of the animals that inhabited the forest to form the familiar smell of her home.

Below her, several flashes of white darted from the shade of the trees and into a clearing. As the deer broke cover, they scattered in several directions, fleeing before her massive shadow. Folding her wings against her sides, she dived, dropping the twenty or so feet onto the back of one of the animals. It shrieked once as her claws dug into its hide, then her jaws closed around its neck.

With a shriek of disgust, Keres bolted upright in bed, the steely tang of blood coating her mouth and throat. The taste turned her stomach sour and she retched, scrabbling on her nightstand for the water-skin. As she brought it to her lips, she swirled the water around her mouth before swallowing. The taste slowly receded as she struggled to force the bile back down into her stomach.

"Oh you're awake. Good morning." The exaggerated innocence of the voice that now echoed in her head irked her slightly.

_You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you do that on purpose. _

"On purpose? Why would I do something like that on purpose?"

_Because you're a pain in my . . ._

"Heart?"

The sheer amusement that radiated over her link with her partner was enough to bring a smile to her face. Keres chuckled, _Yes Vikonyx, that's exactly what I was about to say._

"I thought so."

Extricating herself from the bundled sheets, Keres climbed to her feet and moved over to the wash basin. Turning a knob set into the wall, she sent a stream of warm water pouring down into the intricately carved bowl. _When I asked you to make sure I woke up in time for breakfast, I had hoped you would find a better way to do it._

"I called you and called you, but you wouldn't wake. Your sleep was deep and your dreams were dark."

A faint crease appeared between Keres' eyes as she scrubbed her arms and splashed water up over her face. _My dreams are always dark. _

"Do not dwell on it overmuch." The dragon growled and Keres received a brief image of a bloodied haunch. "Dreams are just dreams, more often than not. You should not create anxiety where none should exist."

_It is far too early in the morning for you to be so existential. _The towel she used was soft against her face as she dabbed away the last traces of moisture. Her own reflection stared up at her from the pool of water, her eyes now bright and alert. Her face was long and slender, with high cheekbones and proud eyes. The scar that had marred her face had been removed by Eragon within three days of her arrival at Vrenbana, the home of the Riders. She now appeared exactly as she wished to. Her ears tapered to points at the end, though not as dramatically as an elf's. Beneath her lips, she felt the canines she had elongated brush against the inside of her cheeks. Her eyes had been the only aspect of her appearance that she had been unable to change. Even Eragon and Saphira's combined might had failed to affect any change in the colorless irises. But perhaps that was for the best, for the deformity no longer bothered her as it used to.

She was broken out of her reverie by a knock on the door. Combing her tangled hair into a semblance of order, she strode over to the door and unclasped the lock. As it swung inward, she found herself standing face to face with a tall, brown-haired man. Clasping her right arm across her breast, she pressed her Gedwey Ignasia against her chest and squarely over her heart. "Eragon-elda."

He surveyed her with deep brown eyes that felt as though they were peeling back her skin to see whatever lay beneath. After a few moments, he inclined his head to her. "Keres-ungr, I am glad to see that you are awake." He paused, his eyes sliding slightly out of focus before he shook himself. "We will forego our usual meditation this morning. Be out at Gjera Lake by 9:00 and do not be late."

She inclined her head, "Yes, master."

His gaze softened slightly as he noticed the heavy bags beneath her eyes. "Haven't you been sleeping well?

Shrugging, she averted her eyes. "No worse than usual."

"You're a terrible liar."

She shifted uneasily, lifting a hand to brush the hair out of her eyes. "Just nightmares. I know they're nightmares, but I can never remember them when I wake up. The more I think about them and try to recall what they were about, the faster I lose them."

His brow furrowed with concern, "Would you like a tonic for it? I'm sure we can find something that will allow you to sleep without dreaming."

"No" The word came out more forcefully than she had intended and she hastily lowered her voice. "No, master. These are my demons, so to speak, I'll just have to deal with them until they depart."

For a few seconds, there was silence, then he nodded in assent. "As you wish. I shall expect you at 9:00 sharp. Do not be late."

With that, he turned and strode back down the stairs, following the curve of the passageway until he disappeared from view. Keres closed the door quickly behind him, locking it back as she dashed over to her chest and removed a set of training clothes. The mention of Gjera Lake had definitely peaked her interest. It was the residence of the only two blacksmiths that resided in Vrenbana, Rhunön-elda and her young apprentice, Ethowyn. The elfish blacksmiths had come to reside there many years before Keres had arrived. Despite her vow to never again craft swords, made after the Tyrant-King Galbatorix used her beloved weapons to bring about the downfall of the riders, she had discovered a loophole which allowed her to make weapons using the body of a rider. She had discovered that this allowed some part of the Rider's personality and abilities to seep into the blade. Since then, she had been plying her craft in the shade of the high mountains.

The strain of forging a blade in such a way was so intense that Eragon and the elders had seen fit to add it to the Rider's training regimen. It was now the last test a Dragon and Rider had to complete before being recognized as full members of the order. Though she had used magic to help craft Brisinger, Rhunön now elected to create her blades the old-fashioned way; a way which required days of intensive and precise labor. Many an apprentice, readying himself or herself to receive a blade, had gone on a strict training regiment in preparation for Rhunön's ritual.

Wriggling her way into her training uniform, Keres contacted Vikonyx and relayed the change of plans to her. The dragon had sealed off the contact to avoid drowning Keres in images of bloody meat and steaming innards. Now, as they reopened their mental link, a sense of completeness washed over Keres and she sighed contentedly. _I just need to get a meal myself. Then I will be ready to go._

The dragon's consciousness thrilled with excitement as she leapt into the air, rising on massive wings. "I need a drink and then I will join you in the courtyard."

_Agreed_. The conversation came to an end as Keres pushed her feet into her boots and buckled on the sword that lay next to her bed. Even so, she could still feel the touch of Vikonyx's mind as the black dragon arched through the sky and the sun glittered off her opalescent scales.


	8. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

For about the hundredth time, Thane reached down and brushed the hilt of the sword at his waist. As always, he was surprised to find it several inches higher than the regular sword that he was used to carrying. Though the grip was large enough to accommodate only one of his hands, the pommel and crossguard elongated the hilt a good inch or so above where he would normally find it. His fingers brushed down the hard leather until they touched the gem set into the hilt of the blade. Janajós, the elves called it, the starlight gems.

True to its name, the gem looked as though it was constantly emitting a silver sheen, just as Evaríncel did. In the center of the gem was a single glyph, which identified the name of the sword, the name that Thane himself had given it as Rhunön-elda presented it to him: Kveykva. It was fitting, he had decided that a rider with a white dragon should have a sword named lightning. The name went well with the thunder that boomed from beneath the big dragon's wings as he flung himself into the sky.

He had been given the option of wielding Islingr, the blade of Vrael, who had led the Riders during the Fall, but he had elected to have Rhunön create him a new sword. True, Islingr was a strong and beautiful blade, but it had felt wrong in his hand. The knowledge that it had spent centuries at the side of Galbatorix had repelled Thane. The sword felt tainted. No, Kveykva was the blade for him. It fit his hand like a well-made glove and already it felt like an extension of his body, not a weapon.

As Thane pushed back his chair, rising from his seat, a twinge of pain lanced through his shoulders and her groaned. His body had still not recovered from the strain of creating his sword during Rhunön's ritual. Immediately afterward, his muscles had shrieked in pain at the slightest movement. Now, the pain had subsided to a few small sparks here and there. Still, it was a small price to pay to be considered a rider in full. Thane had risen early today, determined to complete his packing and say a final goodbye to Vrenbana before departing with the rest of his cohort. On the morrow, he and the other riders who had graduated within the last few months would begin the long journey back to Alagaësia.

An image of a glittering waterfall flashed across his mind as the voice of his partner spoke inside his mind. "I will miss this place when we have departed."

Nodding, though he knew his dragon could not see him, Thane responded. _I have lived here for nearly twelve years. What little I remember of the Alaga__ë__sia must be greatly changed._ He paused for a moment, then asked, _Do you think they would let me go see my family? _

Evaríncel was silent for a moment. "Do you think that it would be wise? I remember that it was . . . difficult for you to abandon your ties with them when we were brought here."

Thane shrugged uneasily, _I do not know what would be wise. I have come to terms with the fact that, if I am not killed and do not fall ill, I will far outlive any of my immediate family. I am different now than I was when I left._

"Are you stronger?"

_I believe so. _

"Then I do not see a problem." The practicality in the white dragon's tone made Thane smile. "So long as visiting your family does not hinder the missions that you are given, nor keep you from upholding the oath we swore when we first set foot here, there should not be an issue." The connection between them was gradually growing stronger, indicating that the dragon had taken flight and was winging his way toward the tower that housed the Dragon Riders. Hastily cleaning his plate and depositing it on a shelf, Thane hurried down a hallway, through a door, and out into open sunlight.

He was just in time to see a huge, white shape soar over him and land on a hill some thirty yards away. Evaríncel landed with a thunderous crash, running down the side of the hill to lesson his momentum. Turning, Thane's partner surveyed him with bright, intelligent eyes. Despite seeing him daily, Thane never failed to marvel at the dragon's size. Since they had first met, all those years ago in Ilirea, the dragon's size had increased nearly ten-fold. He was now six feet tall at the shoulder and nearly twenty-three feet from nose to tail. His scales, which had been dull and lifeless when he had been born, were now hard as diamond and cast a halo of light around his body.

Approaching his rider, Evaríncel ducked his head to but Thane's chest. Thane laughed, reaching up to scratch the dragon under his chin. The dragon hummed softly, blinking his sparkling eyes. "Where shall we go first?"

_Salmora Falls? A swim is a fine way to start a morning._

"Indeed, though I will refrain from joining you. I need my strength for tomorrow. The flight is long and the winds are strong. I cannot afford to waste my energy today."

_You're worried? They said we take the journey in steps. We do not have to fly all the way through. _

"Even so, I would prefer not to tire myself. I do not want my first appearance in Alagaësia to find me labored and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog."

Thane snorted, climbing into the saddle nestled between the spines on the white dragon's back. "Then we will take it easy today."

He felt a mighty bunching of muscles beneath himself as he settled in, and then Evaríncel's white wings rose and fell once. The ground fell away, slowly and jerkily at first, and then with increasing speed and grace. They rose into the air and Thane felt wind brush across his face. Across the valley, the sun was just peering over the rim of the mountains, casting a warm, golden glow on the world. It touched the ruby statue that sat at the very top of Cieráed. The giant gem, which had been carved in the likeness of a dancing flame, blazed to light and the sun touched its glistening edges. As they rose, the light seemed to flicker, exploding into a vibrant rainbow of reds and yellows. In the very depths of the stone, a faint sputtering of blue and white completed the sculpture. The carving at been a gift from the dwarf-king Orik when Eragon had completed the tower that would house the next generation of riders. It had been a fitting gift for a fortress aptly named The Fire Mountain.

As they soared over the landscape, Thane gazed at the ground below them, noting the various landmarks that had always guided him home as a child. At the base of Vrenbana lay the city of Thralmurdras. Inhabited by non-riders of all races, the city was a cultural goldmine. It had not taken Eragon long to realize that it would require far more people to create a working base of operations for the new Dragon Riders. He had extended an invitation to a select few members of each race and many, though not all, had answered his call. The buildings were of a design unlike that of any individual race, the result of collaboration between the dwarves, elves, urgals, and humans.

Trees of many species lined the roads that spiderwebbed through the town. The elves who had come to live in Vrenbana had brought with them their beloved trees, seeds and seedlings from their native home in Du Weldenvarden. Here and there, a small herb garden peeked disturbed the grassy plan that played host to the town. Thane had been surprised to discover that the Urgals shared the elves love of growing things. Their shamans were among the best healers in the valley, for their knowledge of tonics and poultices was extensive. Humans there were as well, who had brought their various cultures and religions to the new city. Also, they had brought their livestock, which even now were surely grazing on the Planes of Miremal, far to the south.

Thane knew nearly every inch of this valley, had covered it both on foot and on dragon-back. It felt strange, to realize that after tomorrow, he would not see Vrenbana again for many, many years.

"If we ever return at all." The growling voice of his partner echoed in his mind.

_Someday we will. When we are elders and it is time for us to take on apprentices of our own. Someday, when the responsibility of training the next generation of riders falls to us, then we shall return to here, to our home._

"Our home" The dragon's agreement radiated from the warm glow of his consciousness. It was tinged, however, by a sliver of sadness. The white dragon had been so young when they had left the capitol, his earliest memories were of Du Weldenvarden, which could hardly be counted characteristic of Alagaësia. More so for him than for Thane, Vrenbana was home. The though made Thane's throat tighten. Steeling himself for the day's activities and bent lower over Evaríncel's neck as the dragon extended his wingbreats and soared over the valley.


	9. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The clang of metal striking metal rang across the shores of Lake Gjera. Keres's arms and shoulders shrieked in protest as she parried Koaloth's blow. The huge urgal bellowed at her, swinging his broadsword around his head. Sidestepping another blow, she struck out at his hip, nicking him hard enough to draw blood even with their blocked blades. Her left arm ached where a purpling bruise had formed just below her shoulder, a memento of blow that she had failed to fully avoid. Keres leapt backward as the broadsword whipped in front of her, its tip passing mere inches from her nose. She twisted as she landed, flicking her blade behind her to parry the blow that Dirlaga sent whistling toward her legs.

When she had realized that this was to be a full-on battle session with the other apprentices, Keres had been delighted. Not only had Rhunön and Ethowyn attended, but the other elders had assembled to watch their respective charges. Even now, a circle of multi-colored dragons ringed the area where the three apprentices fought. The strange, shifting patterns thrown off the dragons' scales sent odd flickers of color across the emerald ground.

Saphira lay like a massive, blue hill, Eragon standing at her head. Her massive skull was nearly as tall as he was. Beside her was Bitxi, the lilac dragon bonded to the dwarf rider, Grundir. Despite her age, she was one of the smaller dragons. Her delicate neck was arched as she surveyed the battlefield with glittering eyes. Laying half-in, half-out of the water was the sand colored Halastair. His rider, Maira, sat on his back, her long legs crossed and draped over the side of her dragon. Next to Halastair stood Nyokatare, a pale blue dragon with a single scar down the side of his face. His elf rider, Narilaer, stood beside him, his black hair shimmering glistening in the light reflected off his dragon's hide. On the opposite side of the clearing, Vikonyx stood beside Rackenbreak and Atâra, the dragons bonded with Koaloth and Dirlaga.

Keres grunted, her concentration returning to the battle as Dirlaga rapped her across the shoulder blades. She staggered forward, ducking over a stroke that Koaloth sent skimming over her head. Leaping forward, Keres planted both of her feet against the urgal's broad chest and, before he could respond, kicked him away, vaulting up and over the head of the dwarf apprentice. Her sword, a hand-and-a-half blade like her master's, felt light as a feather in her grasp. As she landed, Keres struck at Dirlaga from behind, landing a solid blow against the dwarf's shoulder. At almost the same instant, Koaloth struck the shield the dwarf held in her off hand, sandwiching her beneath the weight of the two blades. For a heartbeat there was stillness, and then Dirlaga ducked away from them both, freeing herself from the crushing vice. As the dwarf scrambled away, Keres blocked a backhanded blow from the urgal, gritting her teeth in a feral snarl as she thrust his blade away.

Three way fights were always difficult, but this was tougher than most. Keres, familiar as she was with fighting with Eragon, was used to having opponents that were both stronger and faster than her. However the height difference between the three apprentices made battle taxing. Koaloth's overhanded blows were nearly impossible to block as the effort felt as though it should have splintered her arm like a matchstick. He was clearly destined to be a kull, a fact that his bulging muscles attested to quite well. Dirlaga, on the other hand, was much shorter than the opponents Keres was used to fighting. Her blows always fell lower than Keres was expecting them and several bruises that mottled the tanned skin gave testament to the dwarf's handiwork. She was not exceptionally fast or strong, but she always chose the right moment to strike, a skill that Eragon was at great pains to teach Keres.

Though Koaloth had the advantage of size and weight, Keres was much faster than her opponent. Ducking beneath a second blow, she slipped inside his range and rapped him three times in quick succession: once on the thigh, once on the shoulder, and once on the crown of his head. As he staggered, Keres caught a glimpse of Dirlaga, hacking at the urgal's exposed back. Even as her final blow landed, Koaloth struck Keres a sharp blow in the center of her chest with one, huge fist. He simultaneously lashed a backward kick at Dirlaga, which sent the girl reeling. Keres flew backward, her breath leaving her lungs in a single _whoosh_. She crashed down on her back some eight yards away, tumbling heels over head before managing to right herself.

Even as she landed, she felt the sharp, stabbing pain of Dirlaga attempting to break into her mind. Koaloth never resorted to such methods. His mind was well shielded, but outside of it he was weak. Dirlaga, on the other hand was openly assaulting Keres' mind, which meant she felt safer attacking then defending. Fending off the assault, Keres sent a spear of her thought at the other apprentice and had the satisfaction of watching the dwarf-girl flinch. In the momentary reprieve, Keres dove aside as Koaloth sent a crushing blow down into the ground where she had been a moment earlier. Keres retreated, shifting her sword from hand to hand as she glanced back and forth between the two apprentices.

Having missed his mark once, Koaloth turned to meet Dirlaga's charge and dealt the smaller rider a blow that Dirlaga barely blocked with her shield. Still, the impact sent the dwarf tumbling as Koaloth turned his attention back to Keres. Twirling her sword in a small circle, Keres dropped into a crouch and threw her mind at the dwarf's. Dirlaga struggled to block the attack, throwing up barrier after barrier of gem-encrusted walls before Keres' prying mind. Koaloth's bellow startled the human girl, so much so that she almost lost her concentration and had to struggle to maintain her mental attack. Then, an opportunity presented itself. As Dirlaga was staggering to her feet, her hand alit on a thorny sandspur and she jerked in surprise. The small distraction lessened the strength of her defenses and Keres redoubled her assault as the urgal charged.

The ground shook as Koaloth sprinted toward her, howling in rage. Mentally measuring the distance between them, Keres gave one final push at Dirlaga's mind and felt the barriers shatter beneath her might. At once, Dirlaga's memories and thought flooded into Keres' head. Immobilizing the dwarf, Keres turned her attention to the urgal who was now a scant 10 yards away. Grasping her sword in one hand, she dug her feet into the ground, strengthening her stance. As he neared her, she dropped her voice, legs churning and lips moving as she frantically mouthed, "Frestin iet legras." The resulting surge of speed nearly blinded her. Koaloth's massive form dissolved into a blur as she flashed past him, swinging her sword in a wide, sweeping arc. The impact sent a shockwave up her arms that nearly tore her shoulders from their sockets.

Then she released the flow of magic and whirled, ready to defend herself if Koaloth decided to attack again. Privately, she prayed that he wouldn't be up to fighting anymore. Her hands were trembling on the hilt of her sword and her arms screamed in protest as she brought her sword up to blocking height. Much to her delight, Koaloth was in no position to counterattack. The urgal had sunk to his knees, clutching his stomach and groaning to himself.

Eragon's clear voice called out. "The fight is over. Keres is the winner." Keres heard Vikonyx's roar of approval as she sank to the ground, letting out a long sigh of exhaustion. A hand descended onto her shoulder and she looked up into the face of her master. Though his expression was serious, his eyes were glittering with delight. She touched his hand with her own, allowing him to help her back to her feet.

"You did well, Keres-ungr."

"Thank you master."

"Are you hurt?"

"A few bruises and some scratches, nothing that won't heal."

He gestured to where Narilaer was kneeling beside his apprentice. "You broke a few of his ribs. He'll be fine, but if that had hit Dirlaga . . ." He trailed off.

Keres nodded tiredly, "If it had been Dirlaga, it wouldn't have taken that kind of hit to bring her down." She shoved her sword back into her sheath, groaning as the muscles in her arms flexed and tightened. "Feels like I hit a brick wall."

"That seems an appropriate analogy." Reaching down, he ran his hands over her arms, supporting their weight himself when they began to tremble too severely. "Nothing torn or broken here." He finally announced. "You'll feel it for a day or so . . . but that might not be a bad thing. Remember, magic"

"Yes I know." She cut him off, "Magic always has a price." He raised an eyebrow at her and she hastily amended her comment, "I mean . . . yes master."

He nodded, turning his attention to the waiting crowd. His eyes met Saphira's and the massive dragon lifted her sculpted head. "Now, dragons, your riders have shown us their skills, now it is your turn. Fly swift. Fly true and show us the power of your wings."

The world shook as Rackenbreak let out a rumbling roar and three sets of wings shattered the air as the dragons launched themselves into the sky. Before their connection became strained, Keres touched the mind of her partner. _Good luck Vikonyx. Fly well. _

"You did well heart-sister. Now I shall do the same." Though the contact was brief, a warm glow of pride flared through their mental link before Vikonyx severed it. Lifting her face to the sky, Keres sighed, feeling the hot touch of the sun on her face as she watched the three, multicolored dots rise into the sky and begin their duel.

Frestin iet legras – Strengthen my legs


	10. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The sun had already dipped toward the horizon when Thane and Evaríncel finally returned to Cieráed. Though the mountains surrounding the valley were collectively dubbed the Ealdin Mountains or Mountains of Dawn, Thane thought that dusk was the most beautiful time in Vrenbana. The purplish-pink glow was painting the western sky as the white dragon glided slowly into their shared room on the fourth level of the Fire Mountain. This level, along with those above and the one immediately below was pockmarked with deep, black holes that opened into the inner rooms of the structure. Evaríncel's claws clicked on the stone floor as he set down, folding his wings so as not to brush the walls of his room. Unstrapping his legs, Thane slid to the floor, mentally and emotionally drained.

Their final day in Vrenbana had been more difficult than he had expected. Worst of all had been the hours they had spent walking through the city of Thralmurdras as the day waned. The merry, gaily lit streets were unlike any other place in the world. The flameless lanterns that burned in every color imaginable were just being lit and even now set a multicolored glow dancing into the sky above. Melodies of the elves, of men, of dwarves, and of urgals wound together into a chorus of unimaginable beauty that seemed to give voice to the earth itself. The streets, built after the fashion of Doru Araeba, were wide enough for two dragons to walk abreast. However, Eragon and the founders of the village had agreed that it would make little sense to attempt to replicate the scale of the ancient city. Dragons, Saphira had stated, were not meant to live indoors. However, the bizarre mix of cultures had still created a breathtaking collage of buildings. The knowledge that they would not walk amongst the rainbow streets for many years roused a dull ache in his chest that constricted his breathing.

"It is a most wonderful city." His partner turned a single, glistening eye toward him. "Yet Alagaësia may also yield cities the likes of which we have never seen."

_I know. I remember the cities only vaguely. Tierm with its high walls and harbors, Dras Leona with its towering spires, and Ilirea, with its castle and mansions. _

"I wish to see the Hadarac Desert. The dragons of old nested in the mountains of the desert and I have seen the image in the minds of the Eldunarí and the older dragons. It looks like a good place for flying."

_We are being stationed at Sunvarda, the fortress that overlooks Dras Leona. It is a far flight, but I think we would be able to . . . _He broke off as a vast, immensely powerful mind touched his. The touch was unfamiliar and he recoiled from it as Evaríncel hissed in surprise. For a heartbeat, the two threw up mental barrier after mental barrier before the massive thought, but still it overwhelmed them. It was like being caught up and swept away in a wave. It simply engulfed them. Thane found himself looking at a swirling vortex of midnight-blue stars.

"Unnecessary, but impressive hatchlings." A feminine, rumbling voice spoke in his mind. Recognition flooded through him and he relaxed, his fingers loosening on Kveykva's hilt.

_Yismora-elda._ It had only been a few nights since Nyokatare had explained to the partners the concept of the Eldunarí. The knowledge, he had said, was reserved for dragons and riders who had completed their apprenticeship. By that time, they had grown to respect each other enough to handle the knowledge properly. Afterwards, the blue dragon had taken them to the hidden room in the upper levels of Cieráed where every Eldunarí in Vrenbana was housed. Cuaroc, the dragon-headed guardian of the Eldunarí, had sat in a carved throne against one wall. As Thane and the two dragons entered, he had risen to his feet to challenge them, only returning to his seat when Nyokatare introduced both Thane and Evaríncel. Though Thane had never heard of the purple dragon, Evaríncel was undoubtedly impressed and recognized the name.

The sensation of being watched by so many dragons had been unnerving to say the least. Though they lacked physical bodies, he could feel their minds touching his, feel the weight of their thoughts. He had spoken to several of the Eldunarí, mostly those of dragons who had been bonded with riders. These communicated with words. Umaroth had been prevalent among them, as he was related, by blood, to Evaríncel. Overall, Thane and his dragon had been astonished by the sheer age of the Eldunarí. Hundreds of years of knowledge resided within the walls of that tiny room. A few wild dragons had opted to touch his mind as well. More had spoken to Evaríncel, whom Thane could tell was slightly unnerved by the experience, but five had spoken to him as well. Their minds had felt alien, as many had elected to speak in images rather than in discernible words. One, a large, silver Eldunarí, had left him with a rather cryptic image of a single, glittering star amidst the inky blackness of a night sky.

The mind touching his, he now realized, belonged to a blue dragon named Yismora. Nyokatare had told him that she had been bonded to a human rider named Arlen. He had been killed by the Forsworn during the fall of the riders, but she had managed to bear his body back to Vroenguard before succumbing to her wounds. The story had been accompanied by a brief image of the smallish, midnight-blue dragon gleaned from the mind of one of the elder dragons. Her wings were torn in several placed. Flaps of skin hung limply from her frame. As she began her ascent, struggling to stay aloft, she turned and Thane saw a gaping wound in her chest that stretched from between her front legs partway up her neck. With each, shuddering breath she took, bloody froth sprayed from her rent throat. It had been a horrible sight, one that made his chest ache.

The dragon spoke again, drawing his attention away from his reverie. "My apologies for frightening you. Without a body, this is the only way I can get your attention."

The dragon paused for a moment and the swirling vortex of blue stars shifted slightly. When the silence continued to length, Evaríncel prompted, "What was it you wanted Yismora-elda?"

"Ah yes," The blue dragon sounded as if she were shaking herself, "I am told that you will return to Alagaësia on the morrow. I wish to accompany you."

Silence fell as Thane and Evaríncel stared at each other, dumbfounded. Cautiously, the dragon responded. "You are welcome to come master, but why have you selected us?"

A hum of amusement sounded inside Thane's head as the dragon answered. "Ralihirn and Bodrin are too cautious. They would rather avoid a battle and let their scales rust rather than risk being bitten. Ethrunor," Here the dragon hissed slightly, a tone of disgust tingeing her words, "is convinced that the wind-dulled scales of his hatchling are more beautiful than were my own." Her disapproval was evident and Thane had to quickly hide his amusement before the old dragon sensed it. "Your scales are bright enough, for a male, and you, young Thane-vodhr, your mind is sharp. Yes, I will travel with you. I wish to see the land I loved, the land Arlen loved . . ." At this she fell into a brooding silence. Finally she murmured, "Come and retrieve my heart in the morning. Eragon is already aware of my decision and has given his blessing. Fare you well, until the day comes." With that, she withdrew, leaving behind an empty void within Thane's mind.

Evaríncel was the first to speak. "We are lucky that she has chosen us. Another mind, the mind of an elder dragon no less, will be useful to have around once we reach Alagaësia."

Thane wordlessly agreed, pushing back the wall that separated his dragon's room and bed from his own. The once well-furnished quarters were now quite spartan in appearance. Though the furniture remained, the empty dresser and chest of drawers served as a reminder that he would never return, at least not to this room. When he did return, it would be to quarters higher up in the tower, the quarters of the elders. Stripping off his shirt, Thane glanced at the timepiece on his mantle. They had barely a half-hour until the celebration.

He felt a shiver run through him as he hastily began washing in the tub set into the wall on one side of the room. He had attended several such celebrations before, but this was his. Every time a cohort of riders graduated from their training and received their orders, all riders in Vrenbana came together with their dragons for one final feast. If the rumors he had heard were true, the cooks had been preparing all week for the festivities. The number of rider-bonded dragons in Vrenbana was larger than it had ever been, meaning much more work than the cooks were used to. Thane smiled, picturing the head cook, Feldor. The old man would be in a foul mood right up until his dishes were served, at which point he would wash his hands of the affair and enjoy the festivities.

He had barely managed to wriggle into a set of fresh clothes before the door boomed open and Ethrunor burst into the room. The urgal swung his heavy-browed head toward where Thane stood frozen, his left boot still in his hand. "You know, there is a reason that we have doors and not open doorways." Ralihirn's mild voice sounded from behind the massive figure. The elf sounded halfway between amusement and annoyance.

Ethrunor's massive jaws worked as he spoke. "If you small-ones wanted to keep the urgralgra out, you would have made heavier doors."

"Then how would we open them?"

Before the urgal could respond, Thane tugged the boot onto his foot and spoke up. "Either way, I'm ready now. Shall we be off?"

"Aye" Ethrunor grunted, retreating back through the door. He was replaced by Bodrin, whose sandy-brown hair was in its usual state of disarray.

Bodrin flashed Thane a smile, "Strange, to be going to one of these being thrown for us."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"It's gonna be weird to go back."

Thane chuckled, pausing at the door as Bodrin stepped back to let him through. "I spent so much of my life there wishing I was here. Now that I've been here so long, I'm glad for the change of pace but . . ." He trailed off, not certain how he was planning to end the statement.

Bodrin nodded knowingly. "I understand."

The clack of claws across the room told Thane that Evaríncel had risen and was making his way toward the hole in the wall. Reaching back toward his partner, Thane spoke. _Do you suppose these are as fun when you're the one leaving in the morning?_

"Of course not." The dragon rumbled. "We have to fly in the morning. If I have to be sober, so do you."


	11. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Keres winced as she lifted her goblet, toasting the four new riders who would leave Vrenbana in the morning. Eragon did not allow her to heal bruises or small scrapes until a day after she had received them. He claimed that if she could simply heal her injuries right after they happened, she would never appreciate how she had received them. This lack of appreciation, he had told her, made it more likely that she would injure herself unnecessarily or allow others to injure her needlessly. Bringing the goblet to her lips, she let out a low groan, feeling the numerous bruises on her arms and back throb. _He makes it sound like I injure myself intentionally, or allow myself to be injured. I don't like getting hurt._

A fresh round of cheers drew her attention and she glanced up at the head table, where the newest group of riders sat. The head table was usually reserved only for the elders, however, for this one night, the newest riders were allowed to sit at the head table. It was considered a taste of what was to come, for it was expected that every rider would return to Vrenbana after serving in Alagaësia. The urgal, the elf, and the two humans who made up the most recent cohort exchanged friendly banter with those sitting closest to them. Every rider and bonded dragon that lived in Vrenbana were now gathered together in the outside meal hall to celebrate the graduation of the newest group of riders. Unlike the main hall, this meal hall had open sides to allow the dragons to join in the festivities taking place within. It was set up against the side of Cieráed and boasted access both to the open elements, through three sides, and to the main fortress itself though the left hand side.

She recognized them all of course. She had trained with each of them at some point during her apprenticeship. The urgal, whose name was Ethrunor, was on the smallish side for his breed. Koaloth, despite being several years younger, already towered over his elder kin. His size, however, did not take away from his ferocity and the overwhelming vigor with which he attacked all aspects of life. Ralihirn, the elf, was less agreeable. His superior attitude had done nothing to endear him to Keres during their few joint training exercises. Still, he was a skilled swordsman whose speed had tested even her reflexes. Bodrin, one of the two human riders, was likeable enough. On the whole, Keres thought he was a rather simple soul, but that wasn't necessarily a criticism. Then there was Thane. Keres had been skeptical when she had heard that one of the human princes had been chosen as a rider, but she had come to admire the confident young man. On the few occasions they had trained together she had found him polite, if dry-witted. She had always assumed that she would graduate with this cohort. She had been wrong.

As another gale of laughter emanated from the main table, Keres' frown deepened. Though her rank would have accorded her a position amidst the assembled riders, she had, instead, elected to sit off to one side where her black mood wouldn't disturb the festivities. What bothered her went deeper than the throbbing of her injured limbs. Setting the goblet back down on the table, she glared into the depths of her wine.

_I should be going with them. I've been here longer than any other apprentice has ever remained. _

From her place amongst the dragons, who ringed the festivities, Vikonyx shifted and turned in the direction of her rider. "You were also younger than any apprentice who has ever come to Vrenbana."

_I was here three years before any of them and I am, at the very least, their equal. I surpassed all but Ralihirn in magic and all but Ethrunor in strength, and all but Thane in mental combat._

"Perhaps," the dragon mused, "Eragon is waiting until you are unsurpassed in all three."

Keres hand tightened on her fork as she jabbed moodily at her plate of food. _Perhaps he is waiting because he is a fool. _

"Careful." The warning growl that issued from her dragon was a rumble that vibrated within Keres' chest cavity. "Do not let your anger goad you into rash statements. You know that is not the case."

_Can you see any other reason for him to wait? I'm nearly as strong as he was when he faced Galbatorix, and he was a full rider for years before that happened._

"His case was . . . special."

Frustration surged through her and Keres ground her teeth, growling back at her dragon. _Why are you protecting him? You're supposed to be on my side. _

"I am not protecting him." A flicker of annoyance resounded from the dragon's mind. "I'm protecting you from your own foolishness. Eragon and Saphira must have a good reason for holding us here. Do not be so eager to leave this place. Remember, we are the only apprentices of Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales, Leaders of the Dragon Riders. Even Tarehlak and Gintare were trained jointly by Eragon and Arya. We are the first apprentices who have been trained exclusively by the leaders of the Dragon Riders. If they wish to teach us more than the others, we should be eager to learn." She punctuated the remark by cracking the thigh bone of a Hethor, one of the large, deer-like animals native to Vrenbana and the surrounding area.

The truth of the dragon's words made them even more difficult to hear and Keres hissed beneath her breath. To her surprise, something beneath the table hissed back and then a furry creature brushed against her shins. Starting in surprise, Keres lowered her eyes to find a small, grey tortoiseshell cat looking up at her. His blue eyes glistened with curiosity as he hopped up to sit beside her. His ears twitched, causing the faint, white tassels to bob and sway as he took in the scene before him. His tail swished as he studied the feast.

Reaching toward a platter that sat on the table, Keres tugged a chicken leg free from roast and set it in a small butter dish before laying it on the bench in front of the creature. "Good evening Arlentor. Tired of hanging out with the ladies?"

"Apparently not. I came here to talk to you didn't I?" The voice that spoke within her mind was silky smooth and rippled with the faintest hint of a purr.

"I don't know. Did you?"

His tail twitched and he bared his teeth in a grin. "You are learning." The werecat dipped his head and tore a mouthful of meat off the bone. "On the whole I think I did. You are amusing."

Keres chuckled, "I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you. I haven't seen your mother or your sisters around here. Did they not come?"

"Caline has found that she prefers the company of the elves. Keldenkógr has proven to be right up her alley. Fringala has elected to stay at Crossergate. Mother," his lip curled slightly at the word, "decided that it was a good night for moon-fishing. MOON-FISHING! Can you imagine? With all this excitement and food she wants to go fishing?" The disbelief was evident in his voice.

"Well," Keres said struggling to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching, "at least you graced us with your presence. For that, we will be forever grateful."

"Sarcasm does not become you Keres-ungr." He swallowed and consumed a few more mouthfuls before he spoke again. "I was also sent here by your master to tell you that your training tomorrow will take place on the southern shore of Lake Miraloft." He ran a pink tongue over his whiskers, "So it would seem that my visit was both business and pleasure." Setting down the now clean bone on the plate, he twitched his tail at her and leapt neatly off the bench, disappearing beneath the tables.

Keres stared after him, not quite drained of her anger, but too amused to let it overtake her again. _I don't think I will ever understand that cat._

"Werecat" Vikonyx corrected. "He likes you. So far as I know, you are the only apprentice that he has ever bothered to speak with regularly."

_I'm also not sure how I feel about being termed amusing._

"You are amusing." Wolfing down the last few bites of her meal, Vikonyx looked over at her rider. "Do not be angry tonight. This is a night for merriment and delight. If you don't want to be here, there are various diversions at our disposal. Come, let us go for a swim. Go and get your things and I will join you on the shore."

Setting down her goblet, Keres slipped silently out a side door to the main hallway. The corridors were empty, making it exceptionally easy to make her way back to her room. Within twenty minutes, she had changed into the tight, half-shirt and trousers that she used as her swimming attire. Wrapping a thick, heavy cloak around herself, she quickly made her way back down the stairs, taking care to avoid the hallway that would lead her past the festivities. She stepped back out into the night air. Now the only thing that lay between her and the lake was the large cluster of lights and houses that was the city of Thralmurdras.

The inhabitants were winding down their activities for the night. The few who had elected not to enjoy the festivities at the main fortress were quickly making their way along the well-paved streets. Though the city could not equal the splendor of the Riders' first city, Doru Areba, Keres privately thought that she preferred the smaller scale of Thralmurdras. The streets were wide enough for dragons to traverse and each house boasted at least one window large enough to accommodate a dragon's head. Beyond that, the scale was relatively normal. This was more practical, she had decided early in her youth. Dragons were not meant to be in houses or regular buildings. Also, the city boasted more urgal and dwarf buildings than its predecessor. The eclectic mix of buildings, made similar by the materials which made up each, presenting a rather pleasing mix of color and shape. More importantly, each building was painted a different color, a trait which had, before it had been intentional, given the Rainbow City its name.

Quickly traversing the backroads of the city, if any were small enough to be called such, Keres reached the lake within minutes. Stripping off her heavy cloak and boots, she wedged them both between the branches of a nearby tree. The thick, emerald grass was soft and springy beneath her feet. It continued all the way down the bank to the water's edge, where she tentatively took a few steps toward the center of the lake. Water lapped at her ankles as her toes sunk into soft, squishy mud. Muttering a quick spell to keep the water out of her nose, she pulled the tie out of her hair, letting the white locks cascade over her shoulders and down her back. The water was cool, cooler than she would have liked. But Keres stayed were she was, gradually letting her body acclimate to the temperature. About every minute of so, she took a step deeper into the water.

Then, a heavy, buffeting wind struck her back and she stumbled as the air around her shattered from a furious concussion. She shrieked as a claw closed around her body and lifted her high into the air. The ascent was dizzying, and was only matched when the claw released her about twenty feet above the gentle waves. Her arms flailed as she twisted, glimpsing a dark, winged figure high above her before she struck the water. Bubbles obscured her vision as she plunged into the cool depths of the lake. As she broke the surface, she shook the water from her eyes, laughing uproariously as, far to her left, Vikonyx dove. A few moments later, a wave of water crashed over Keres' head. She allowed the wave to tumble her heels over head, and then came up for air.

The black dragon's serpentine head emerged from the water a few feet away. Swimming toward it, Keres draped herself over the muzzle. "You're right. I do feel better."

The dragon hummed, blowing out a long breath of air. Arching her back, Vikonyx lifted her shoulders out of the water, twisting her head around to allowing Keres to scramble into her usual place between the gap in the dragon's spines. The slick scales dug lightly into the insides of her legs, but not enough to hurt. The dragon reared, sending a tower of spray into the air, and her huge wings unfolded as she leapt free of the lake's surface. The pair rose into the sky, trailing water behind them like a comet's tail. Then, at the height of her climb, Vikonyx folded her wings and plummeted into the water. The cool surface erupted as the dragon arrowed into it, forming a wall that nearly ripped Keres out of her seat when she submerged.

The white-haired girl closed her eyes, pressing herself as close to her dragon's neck as she could. She was dancing in the darkness. Her hair swirled around her as Vikonyx turned fantastic shapes beneath the surface, twisting and twirling in the blackness. Opening her mouth, the girl uttered a quick spell and, as it took effect, drew in a gushing breath of air. Relaxing into her seat, Keres allowed herself to be swept up in the beauty of the motion. Her dragon's long, sinuous frame made her perfectly suited for air and water. She swam like a snake, her tail directing the motions of her body.

Then she broke the surface, leaping back into the air. As she rose, Keres loosened her grip, curled her knees up to her chest, and vaulted backward off the dragon's back. She backflipped, avoiding the sharp spines that ridged Vikonyx's back, then splashed back into the water. Again and again her dragon dipped to retrieve her and over and over Keres took flight, arcing through the air to land in the cool, dark water. Her shrieks of mirth echoed over the valley, wild and exhilarated with the strength of her freedom. Final, exhausted and bedraggled, Keres pulled herself onto her dragon's back and lay, panting against the black scales. Between her legs, she felt Vikonyx begin to hum.

"Our lives are not so bad heart-sister." She murmured softly, "Do not rush into our responsibilities. We have years, decades, centuries to take up whatever task is appointed to us. For now, let us be young, let us be wild, and let us be free."

Keres sighed, leaning her head against the snake-like neck in front of her. _I suppose that does sound nice. Still, I wish I could at least have my sword._

Vikonyx' hum grew louder as amusement colored her mood. As the dragon made her way back toward the Fire Mountain, which loomed like a beacon in the distance, Keres watched the moonlight reveal shards of color within the dragon's black scales. The sparkles winked in and out of existence in a never ending cycle. Red and blue and white and gold and green they danced across her mind until sleep overtook her and her eyes finally closed.


	12. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The sun had barely begun to shine over the lowest parts of the mountains when Thane and Evaríncel set off from Cieráed with the rest of their companions. The steady concussion of the dragon's wings was a familiar, comforting sound. Behind Thane, carefully tucked away in his saddlebags, was the blue Eldunarí of the dragon Yismora. He could feel her consciousness, but for now, she was content simply to ride and watch the journey through his eyes, though they kept their emotions carefully separate. For this, Thane was immensely grateful.

As he glanced over at his companions, he felt another sharp pang of sadness. Though they had been together for nearly 13 years, this was likely to be their last journey together for a very long time. Ralihirn was being stationed in Du Weldenvarden, where the riders had reclaimed one of their ancient strongholds near the heart of the forest. He and Adurngala, his turquoise dragon, would be returning to the home of his birth. The elf had been thrilled, or at least, he had been as excited and happy as elves ever looked outwardly. Bodrin and Ethrunor would be stationed together in Farthen Dûr. It was the largest of the Rider sanctuaries in Alagaësia as it included the Dragon Hold above the great Star Rose, Isidar Mithrim. After Saphira had restored the gem, the dwarves, under the rule of Eragon's foster-brother, Orik, had been more than willing to allow the riders to live in the ancient fortress.

Thane and Evaríncel had been stationed at Sunvarda, the only Rider fortress created since the Rider War. After the first few riders had returned to Alagaësia, Eragon and Saphira had grown concerned about the activity being reported in and around Dras Leona. During the course of the rider war, Saphria had destroyed the ancient cathedral of the city and Eragon, along with help from several companions, had destroyed the priests who worshipped Helgrind and the Razac. However, in the aftermath of the battle, several prominent members of the community went missing, and strange figures were seen inspecting the ruins of the chapel and its underground caverns. In an effort to forestall any reemergence of the religion, Eragon had ordered a new fortress to be built directly across Leona Lake from the city. From there, the riders could easily police several of the more isolated cities such as Kuasta, Bellatona, Feinster, and Tierm.

At present, there were only three riders stationed at Sunvarda. Gareth, the rider who had been present when Thane was presented to the eggs, was stationed there with his blue-green dragon, Tourmal. Aside from him, the other two riders were also rather noteworthy. Tarehlak, the first dwarf rider, and his massive amber dragon, Gintare, were the senior riders at the fortress. Also stationed there was Nortavog, the first female urgal to be selected as a rider. In his entire life, Thane had only other seen one female urgal, a young apprentice named Hathiarg, and he rather thought that an adult, female urgal might prove very different. Her pink dragon, Stenfeon, was heralded as one of the most beautiful dragons currently alive. Thane had heard her pink scales compared to the Star Rose of the dwarves. All in all, Thane was pleased with his placement, if still a bit bitter at having to leave his home.

About six hours into the flight, Graenhall, the farming village which supplied the vast majority of the produce to the rest of the valley, appeared as a series of brown, rectangular patches far to the southeast. Even from this distance, Thane, through Evaríncel's enhanced sense of smell, caught the scent of freshly tilled earth and cut grass. The sowing season would soon be upon them and the inhabitants of the village would once again plant the seeds of their labor into the fertile soil. It had taken some time for Thane to get used to the idea that his food was grown in land fertilized by dragon dung, but eventually, he had been forced to admit that the yield of those fields was better than any he had seen before.

"This place was well laid." Evaríncel commented, "Eragon and Saphira did well to find it."

The town vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Beneath them, the Roran River, snaked it was unerringly toward the smudged shadow of Crossergate far ahead. The river, named after Eragon's cousin, Roran Stronghammer, a hero of the War of the Riders, had been so named because, as Eragon said, despite the detours it had to take, it ran unceasingly toward the valley, just as Roran had always run toward his wife, Katrina. It had been a noble sentiment, Thane had thought. Though he wondered if Eragon now regretted the decision to name the river so. Both Roran and Katrina had been dead for over 300 years. Though he had heard their decedents remained in Palancar Valley, they would not know Eragon even if he had visited them.

_How sad_. Thane thought. _To have so outlived the people you grew up with. _In a way, Thane was glad that he had been taken from his family so young. He had missed them terribly for the first year or so. But after a while, the memories had faded. His only memento he had of his family was a picture that was now tucked inside his saddlebags. They would look totally different now. His parents would be old. His brother would be grown. But they were distant memories now; ghosts of his past that appeared only in his dreams. _He grew up with Roran, knew him for longer than I've been alive. And now . . . nothing. _Thane shuddered, suddenly thankful that most of his closest friends were dragons and riders. They would likely live just as long as he and Evaríncel.

"Remember, we are not immortal. Blade and sickness may still take both us and our friends."

Thane acknowledged the comment with a dip of his head. Though he could not see it, he knew that the smaller city of Miremal lay on the opposite side of the Roran River from Graenfell. While Graenfell produced the majority of the valley's produce, Miremal focused predominantly on livestock. Vast herds of cows, sheep, goats, horses, and oxen roamed across the Plains of Miremal that surrounded the city. Also among them were several Apella and Nuliam both species that the Riders had discovered living in Vrenbana. It had taken years to domesticate them, but the effort had been worth it. The long, wool-like fur of the Apella was not only perfect for weaving, but waterproof. The slow, lumbering Nuliam produced more meat per animal than any of the domestic breeds the four races had brought with them.

_Five_ Thane said, mentally correcting himself. Evaríncel made a coughing sound that his rider identified as laughter.

It took them another two hours to reach Crossergate, the place where they would spend one final night before departing Vrenbana forever. Tradition was that riders would spend their last night atop the massive, carved structure, guarding their home, before departing for Alagaësia. Here, the dragons would be loaded down with the final aspects of their provisions and spend one final night of rest before they began the longest stage of their journey. They circled over the large, stone structure as they waited for the okay to land. The guards within the towers atop the wall would surely have noticed them long before. Their supplies would, even now, be making their way up the long, winding staircases to the top, where the dragons and riders would camp for the night.

Though he had seen it thrice before, the magnitude of Crossergate never failed to impress him. The Roran River ran out between a pair of sheer cliffs. Carved into these cliffs by year of unerring work by crafters of all races, were the likenesses of Eragon I and his dragon, Bid'aum. Eragon I stood on the right. His hair was swept back from his face. His stance was proud and his expression fierce. He stood, proud and tall, with his swore bare and jammed into the bare stone at his feet. His hands rested on the pommel, folded one atop the other. On the left was Bid'aum. His wings were folded, though his neck arched mightily and his jaws were open, even as they protruded from the stone. He gripped the rock beneath him with sharp, curved claws.

Though he could not see them, for it was still day, he knew that, at the first hint of darkness, the true beauty of Crossergate would be revealed. For behind the eyes of the stone Eragon I, there glowed a constant blue light. The eyes shone like beacons at night, welcoming the riders and dragons who called the valley home, and warning those who were enemies that the eyes of the Riders were ever watchful. In the mouth of Bid'Daum glowed a flame, a true flame, which flickered and flared from between serrated teeth. As a child, the sight had frightened Thane. His first journey through the Crossergate had been spent hiding in the cabin of the ship to prevent the massive figures from seeing him. He felt convinced that they would see right through him and that, at any moment, the giant, stone man might reach down and squash him like a bug. Or else the giant dragon might rear its head and unleash the fire on him and the boat. Now, he felt nothing but pride as he gazed at the two figures, offering a formal salute as he circled one last time, before touching down on solid stone.

The stocky form of a dwarf emerged from behind a cluster of rocks, from a trapdoor that Thane knew concealed a passage leading into the "intestines" of the large statues. He hung back until the last dragon had landed, folding its wings, and then strode forward to greet them. In a voice thick with accent, he said, "Welcome Riders. Your supplies are being brought up to you. Would you like to come inside, or would you prefer to stay out here with your dragons?"

"Go" Evaríncel said softly, lifting his head as she stretched. "We will remain here. The sun is still high and I would enjoy the day." He turned to glance at his companions. "I believe we are agreed?" Rowan dipped his head in agreement as Adurngala turned, headed toward a large patch of grass.

Thane nodded as Bodrin spoke, "We will join you."

The dwarf nodded, "Please follow me." The turned and strode back to the pile of rocks. Tugging open the trapdoor, he scrambled down a rather steep set of stairs. Bodrin followed him closely, then Ralihirn and Ethrunor. Thane entered last, pausing as he glanced back toward where the dragons had settled. Evaríncel stood, a glistening diamond sentinel perched atop the statue of ancient, white Bid'Daum. The appropriateness of the sight struck Thane as being slightly amusing. Smiling to himself, he turned away and followed his companions in to the depths of Crossergate.


	13. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Much to Keres' surprise, Eragon and Saphira were not waiting for them at the edge of Lake Miraloft the next morning. Uncertain if Arlentor had been telling the truth, Keres elected to begin her training alone, staring with the Rimgar, the Dance of Snake and Crane, just as she and Eragon always began their lessons. Though she had begun the second level during their last encounter, she began with the first, deciding to warm her muscles up before trying the more strenuous positions demanded by the next level. Invigorated after the previous night's swim, she found her limbs supple and full of energy. She glided gracefully through the first few movements, focusing on her breathing and perfecting the motions. Beside her, Vikonyx was engaging in the series of contortions that Saphira always put her through before training.

It was not long before the pair picked up the sound of wingbeats in the distance and Saphira dove out of a cloud bank. As he landed, Eragon leapt off of her back, striding over to stand beside Keres. Wordlessly, he began to perform the dance beside her, though he began with level three. Saphira strode over to Vikonyx and settled onto the grass, watching the movements of the young dragon. Keres eyes stayed on her master as he went through the series of poses. His face was unusually tense, though his motions were as smooth as ever.

Finally, she spoke. "What is wrong master?"

He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it abruptly.

"You were going to lie and say 'nothing' weren't you?" She asked calmly.

A small smile broke over his face. "And if I was?"

"Then I would have asked how long you intended to treat me like a child."

"You are a child."

"I'm older than you were when you defeated Galbatorix." She argued, "What's more, I've been raised to know the world my whole life. I grew up learning to speak the ancient language along with my native tongue. I've lived here, training with elves and dwarves and urgals and humans since I was young. In comparison to how you were at my age, I may well be a sage."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "Truly?" he said airily, "And I suppose you understand how to command in battle? You have stormed a city, watching men die around you? Surely you have listened to the council of kings and made decisions that would affect the future of the country for years to come? And of course, I'm sure you are held the life of another in your hand and been forced to judge how best to punish or reward him?"

Heat flushed through her cheeks as Keres saw what her master was implying. Ceasing her exercises, she turned to face him. "That's not fair. If there were a war to fight I would gladly accept those responsibilities! But there is no such conflict for me." Though she fought to contain it, she could not help a note of bitterness from creeping into her voice.

Eragon had clearly noticed it to. His eyes darkened as his voice dropped to a more serious tone, straightening to his full height. "Keres, we should never hope for war, we of all people. Dragon Riders are peace keepers. And believe you me Keres-ungr," here he laid stress on the honorific, "if you ever experience war, gods forbid it, then you will know that no good leader ever gladly accepts that type of responsibility. We bear it. We accept it. We may even seek it out, but that type of responsibility is not something one can be glad for."

Keres dropped her eyes, the familiar burning in her eyes telling her that, once again, she had embarrassed herself in front of her master. As the silence stretched, she realized he was waiting for a response and she muttered, "My apologies master."

He regarded her for another few moments, then sighed. "Ah Keres, conflict is the way of the world. There will be plenty for you. Do not worry."

"That sounds vaguely familiar." The voice of Vikonyx echoed in her mind and Keres snapped back angrily.

_Mind your own training_. Though the dragon withdrew, Keres could not blot out the faint sense of amusement that resounded over the link they left open.

Both Eragon and Keres resumed the Rimgar where they had left off. After a few minutes, the two dragons leapt into the sky and Eragon gestured for her to stop. Sitting down on the grass, he finally said, "It appears that slavers have been patrolling the outskirts of the Beor Mountains. They've been snatching people from Surda's outlying villages. King Corden has petitioned us for assistance."

Keres' skin prickled. Slavery had been outlawed after Galbatorix had been defeated. Eragon had seen to it that all slaves in the Empire had been set free. "Well, what do you plan to do?"

The lines of his face deepened as she sat down next to him. "Well, that is what I'm trying to decide. Getting boots on the ground would be no problem. I could just send one of the Riders stationed with the dwarves. However, the question is, how can I head off the situation. Yes, we can clear them out easily enough. But how do I ensure that no one else could take their place?"

"The most obvious choice would be to wipe them out." Keres said, voicing her first reaction to the news. "But," she amended, "I don't think that is the answer you were looking for."

"No, it's not."

"We need to send a message, but you don't want it to be a message written in blood."

"Correct."

"Another option," Keres spoke more slowly now as she though the her answer, "would be to make them slaves. Give them a taste of their own medicine. However, I doubt you could do that without breaking any anti-slavery laws or setting some type of unwelcome precedent." She glanced sideways to see him, nodding. Encouraged, she continued, "Or we could put them in jail until they die or are too old to do any more damage. It would send a clear message, but it would also be a drain on the resources of whoever had to hold them in prison. It's almost unfair to ask that of any of the rulers, locally or otherwise." A bark of laughter from beside her drew her attention and she turned to see a wide grin on her master's face. "What?"

He laughed again, leaning back against the grass, "You still manage to surprise me at times, even after all these years."

A smile broke over her face at the compliment. "I'm told the element of surprise can be rather helpful."

"That it can." His gaze swept over her face and he motioned to her. "Do you have any more ideas?"

Her brow furrowed as she folded her arms. Several thoughts ran through her mind, but she decided that, at this point, it would probably be best to only present the ones that might work. After all, Eragon had finally decided to ask her opinion. She had to make it count. Finally she said, "Perhaps you could put them to work? Prison is really the only option if you don't want to kill them, but maybe make them work while they are there? Make them grow their own food, learn a real trade, something like that? Anything that would allow them to pay for their own upkeep would alleviate the cost of keeping them locked up."

Much to her surprise, her master looked thoughtful. "That," he said finally, "might not be a bad idea. I will have to confer with Arya and Tarehlak, but that might be doable." He shook himself, loosening his limbs as he rose to his feet. "At any rate, it's time to start your lesson. Do you remember what we worked on last time?" She nodded and he continued, "Fire is a bit easier to direct. You only have to focus on one thing, directing the stream of flame where you want it to go. Today we will be working with water. Now, what differences can you foresee?"

Several answers leapt to her tongue, but Keres choked them back immediately. She had learned that it didn't pay to blurt out answers around her master. His responses were frequently irrelevant to the task at hand for, as he had said, "If you are going to say the first thing that comes to your mind, I will do the same."

After a few moments of thought, she said, "Weight would likely be the first difference. Fire doesn't really weigh anything, but water definitely has weight to it. I'd imagine that will also make it harder to direct the stream, as I have to make sure that all of the water is moving in the same direction at the same time."

"Good." Eragon said, giving a satisfied nod, "But you won't just be lifting any water. You'll be taking water out of the lake. What does that mean?"

For a full minute, she was stumped. What difference would it make if she lifted water from the lake? Water was water. There was nothing special about the lake as far as she knew. The answer came to her in a flash of silver and a splash, followed by a series of ripples that disturbed the serene motion of the lake. "Fish! There are animals in the lake. Plants as well." She added hastily, remembering the lessons on meditation she had been given. The plants were just as much alive as the animals, if not as vibrant.

"Exactly and you must take care that you do not harm any of the plants or animals." Eragon nodded toward the vast expanse of shimmering water. "Well, go ahead. Give it a shot. Your directions are the same as last time."

Keres turned to the water, focusing her attention on the sunlight that rippled on the waves. Opening her mind, she extended it out into the lake. With every inch her consciousness expanded, she felt the glow of the lives she came into contact with. Fish darted to and fro, their bright life energy glowing like flickering flames in her mind. Smaller minnows and frogs were starry pinpricks in the darkness. As she searched harder, she felt the slow, dim lives of the various mosses and lake plants appeared. Fixing the words she would need in her mind, she drew in a deep breath. She uttered the spell and a huge, sphere of water large enough for her to have submerged herself in rose out of the glassy surface. Within, three fish swam in frantic circles, apparently distraught at the sudden alteration in their environment.

Her brow furrowed as she incanted the next line of the spell. A single tendril of water emerged from the top of the ball. It twisted like a snake, moving smoothly to encircle the ball before arching in another direction. As the original ball grew smaller, the twisted knot grew more intricate. At one point, she felt the small minds of the organisms within the structure flare with alarm. The current had sped up until the smaller creatures were struggling to maintain their positions. She uttered a quick spell to slow the water and felt the alarm die down. That was another thing that she and her master had worked on countless times, casting multiple spells simultaneously. It was a difficult skill and Keres still hadn't mastered it, but she had become proficient so long as the spells weren't overly complicated. The strain was less than she had anticipated, but the amount of concentration required was more extensive than she had expected.

A sudden stab of pain ripped through her right calf. She cried out in shock and the water wavered, the various parts beginning to collapse inward. Cursing softly, she refocused and, slowly, the knot of water regained its former shape. Keres silently berated herself. She had been so engrossed in the training that she had forgotten that Vikonyx and Saphira would be dueling overhead. The pain in her leg resounded across their mental link from her partner. The black dragon had just received a sharp nip from her larger counterpart. Risking a glance upward, Keres saw her partner spiral downward, narrowly avoiding Saphira's whipping tail.

"Keres" Her master's voice drew her attention and she looked over at him, taking care to maintain the connection to her water sculpture. Eragon pointed to the sky, where the two dragons dueled in circles. "Help your dragon."

_Great. _Keeping a firm hold on her spell would be difficult enough. With the amount of distance between her and the dragons, casting any spell would be a challenge. Keres stared for a moment, watching as the two dragons wheeled and spiraled around each other. What would hinder Saphira without also hindering Vikonyx? More importantly, how could she help her dragon without exhausting herself? The distance would be too great for her to help overmuch.

A flicker of though emanated from her dragon and Vikonyx rolled, darting across the sky toward where Keres and Eragon stood. Saphira dove after her. Grateful for the assistance, Keres focused on Saphira. The blue dragon was slightly faster than Vikonyx over open space, but Keres privately thought that Vikonyx was the better flier. She had been practicing relentlessly, striving to be better than Saphira, who was widely hailed as the best flier of all the dragons. Not wanting to risk a mental communication that could be overheard, she sent a surge of emotions toward her partner. The dragon responded with an answering surge. Quickly reviewing the lessons Vikonyx had learned from the older dragon, Keres composed the spell and let it roll of her tongue. Her strength waned as the spell took effect and her knees trembled slightly before she could regain her composure. For a moment, the dragons continued to soar as they were. Saphira had closed the distance between them. Her teeth were mere yards from the black dragon's tail.

Then Saphira lurched. Her wingbeats, so strong a moment before, became labored as she dropped several hundred feet straight down. In that moment, Vikonyx flared her wings, executing a tight, backward loop in which her nose nearly came into contact with her tail. Tucking her wings in, she dropped out of the sky like a black meteor, landing on the blue dragon's back. The impact was clearly audible and Keres saw Eragon wince even as she felt a sudden surge of pain. With the black dragon on top, the two creatures plummeted to earth. About 200 feet above the ground, Vikonyx flared her wings, peeling away. Saphira's blue wings, freed of the weight of the black dragon, snapped open and she managed to slow herself before she hit the ground.

"Enough Keres." Eragon said softly.

She nodded, slowly lowering the structure back into the water. As the last traces disappeared, she turned to look at her master. His gaze was slightly unfocused and he was staring toward where Saphira had landed. When he turned back to look at her, some of the tension had drained from his shoulders.

"She's not hurt is she?"

A smile broke over her master's face, "No, she's more irritated than anything. By which I mean her pride has been wounded more than her body." He studied his apprentice for a moment, "What did you do?"

"I adjusted the temperature of the air beneath her. I made it lighter, so that she would lose altitude."

"Why?"

Keres shrugged, "Well, I figured that Saphira would have wards that would prevent me from directly influencing her. I considered attacking you to distract her, but I would have run into the same problem. Likewise, I couldn't have done much more than hide Vikonyx and that might have drained me completely. Also, the spell I chose was much more difficult to detect and, because of that, she wasn't able to correct in time."

For a moment, silence, then he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Well done Keres."

She grinned, delighted at the praise. Jerked his thumb over his shoulder, he continued, "Now, why don't we go heal our dragons and work on some aerial combat?" He turned and began to walk in the direction of the blue dragon that now crouched on the ground with Vikonyx at her side. Pausing, he turned and added, "You can tell me about this 'Drop the hammer' technique you're so proud of."

The smile on her face stiffened into a grimace as her cheeks flushed. "You heard about that?"

Turning back toward his dragon, Eragon called, "I'm the leader of the Dragon Riders. I hear everything."


	14. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The days blurred into weeks as the monotonous landscape stretched endlessly before Thane and Evaríncel. They had only made brief forays into the Mountains of Vrasston prior to this journey, but now Thane realized that those trips had shown them all the mountains had to offer. What was more, to call them mountains was a gross exaggeration of the truth. As Evaríncel had noted early in their flight, some of the so called mountains were smaller than Saphira. Of course, others towered above their brethren by many hundreds of feet. However, when they had voiced these opinions, Ralihirn had pointed out that this was all a matter of perspective. After spending such a large amount of time in Vrenbana, surrounded by the vast behemoths that ringed the valley, it was only natural that everything else would appear miniscule.

Such conversations had been the only diversion the group could enjoy on the long, punishing flight back to Alagaësia. The flight itself had never been managed in under a month. Many years previous, riders Rok and Inna, along with their dragons, had rushed back to Alagaësia in order to help quell a confrontation between the urgals and humans. As there was no immediate problem in the country, Thane and his companions had elected to take the journey relatively slowly. They stopped nightly to sleep, however, the lack of food and water was a constant issue that lurked in their minds. For the humans, their water-skins would keep them going for two to three days. However, none of them could carry enough water for the dragons, nor could they pull it up from beneath the mountains, which were solid stone beneath the thin layers of soil. This meant that they frequently had to veer off course to stop at a river or stream where the dragons could drink. Food was more difficult and thrice they had already had to stop so that the dragons could hunt and fill their bellies.

The one boon had been Yismora. After she had revealed her presence to his companions, the dragon had regaled them with stories of the old order. She had been there during the Fall and possessed many stories that even Eragon and Saphira would not have been able to relate. Thane's favorite of these had been the tales of Cuaroc. Thane had heard the titles of the purple dragon many times, however, no one had ever been able to tell him the origins of those titles. Yismora had explained how Curaroc had been the first dragon to best three nïdwal.

The first he had encountered as a rather young dragon. He and his rider had simply flown too close to the waves and the massive, fanged creature had ambushed them from below, taking a nice portion of the purple dragon's tail along with it. Enraged, Cuaroc had circled back around, baiting the nïdwal to attack again. When the green-hued beast had broken the surface again, Cuaroc had grasped it by the throat and dragged it through the water, nearly twelve miles until he could beach it upon the shore. He had killed two more of the giant creatures during his long years, the third of which he had actually followed into the water. This was the most vicious and dangerous of his battles as his rider had not been with him at the time and the smell of blood in the water had attracted more of the sharp-toothed water monsters.

Yismora had been a bit more hesitant to explain Cuaroc's second title "Bane of the Urgals," but had continued at Ethrunor's insistence. The Urgals, Thane had come to realize, were not ashamed of their history, nor were they averse to discussing events in which many of their kind had been killed. A death in battle was, for them, a glorious death. Curaroc and his rider, an elf named Fyretha, along with two other dragons and riders, had cleared an entire urgal stronghold that had set up camp in the middle of what would later become Surda. She described the charge of some 40 kull who had dashed out to challenge the Dragon Riders as they landed. Ethrunor had been especially delighted to hear the story, for it was one that had been lost to the urgals for years. They had simply lost contact with group of their kin. Even from a distance, Thane could see the muscles bunching and relaxing along the urgal's strong frame, something that only happened when he was excited or anxious.

It had been near the end of this tale when Diruyera, the midnight blue dragon of Ethrunor had touched all of their minds. "The air is tense. A storm is coming." While it was normally considered rude for a dragon or rider to mentally contact anyone other than their partner, the eight of them had trained together for such a long time that it was second nature for each of them to mentally speak with the others. Even so, for the blue dragon to have contacted all of them in such a fashion meant that whatever she had to say was important.

Rowan flared his nostrils, as did the other two dragons, tasting the air. Though none of them could smell or sense anything out of the ordinary, Bodrin pulled out the map and began searching for the nearest resting spot. The blue dragon was well known for her uncanny ability to sense dangerous weather patterns.

After a few minutes, Bodrin reported in. "Looks like we're still two hours out from the nearest resting point."

The Dragon Riders who had traversed the mountain range before them had set up a series of rough shelters designed to over a safe place to rest for the riders who came after them. Thane and his companions had stayed in only in only a few of these shelters during the trip. The weather had been good, meaning that the dragons and riders could afford to sleep out in the open. The one down side had been the thorns. For unknown reasons, the Mountains of Vrasston possessed a proclivity for producing spiny plants in every conceivable shape and size. Even seemingly familiar plants boasted thorns when they grew in this region. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he found himself unconsciously rubbing his left arm. He had discovered the extent of the infestation when he had rolled over in his sleep and woke up with several, inch-long thorns embedded in his flesh. Though he had quickly healed the wounds, the memory of the sharp, stabbing pain, hadn't faded nearly as quickly.

What was worse, some of the thorns were so small and sharp that they had even been able to penetrate the hides of the dragons, slipping between their scales to bite the soft skin beneath. Adurngala had been the unfortunate test subject. He had landed on the first site they had chosen to bed down, only to take a few steps before rising into the air with a howl of pain. After the other dragons had burned the site thoroughly and were convinced that it was safe to land, it had taken nearly an hour for Ralihirn to remove all of the thorns from his partner's feet. The site of the turquoise dragon laying on his side, his feet awkwardly held in the air would have been humorous had the others not seen the bloodied spines that Ralihirn pulled from between the dragon's toes. The scalding dragon-blood had dissolved the very tips of the spines, but what was left was more than enough to earn several winces of sympathy from both dragons and riders alike.

The sites which had been created by previous riders and dragons were less heavily infested than the rest of the mountains. Scorch marks barely visible beneath the new layers of growth had quickly clued the riders in on which places were good to land. However, they were not always clear of spines, thought they might initially appear so. As a precaution, the dragons took great care to thoroughly burn every inch of ground before finally settling down. More importantly, these pre-made sites usually incorporated some form of cave or lean-to that would protect both dragons and riders from the storms. They were generally situated on the slopes of the larger mountains, where it was possible to build a structure large enough to house at least two dragons. When it occurred, and it occasionally did, that the shelter was not large enough for all of the dragons, they took turns, alternating who had to sit out in the rain and who could stay dry.

They were still an hour out from the camp when sharp-eyed Ralihirn caught sight of a dark blot on the horizon. By that time, even Thane and the other riders could feel the electrical energy in the air. The small hairs on Thane's arm and the back of his neck prickled and stood on end. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Thane's legs tightened unconsciously on Evaríncel's sides, urging his partner for more speed. As the storm neared, they found themselves in a position that was much worse than they had anticipated. The frequent gusts of wind that now buffeted them prevented the dragons from flying closer to the ground. If the gusts were strong enough, they could send both dragon and rider plowing into the thorn covered mountainsides. Such an accident would mean, at best, a few thorns that would need to be removed, and at worst, a broken limb or wing. As such, the dragons had to fly over the peaks of all but the highest mountains. Conversely, they could not afford to fly to high for fear of getting caught the dangerous air currents. A strong updraft could carry them to where the air was too thin to breathe or support their weight. This meant that, despite their altitude, they were still skimming the tops of most of the mountains.

The Dragon Riders could only watch helplessly as the clouds grew ever closer and the gusts of wind grew ever stronger, seeking to push them off course. Fifteen minutes from the camp site, Diruyera's calm voice spoke in their minds. "Brace yourselves. It's coming."

Thane crouched in the saddle, pressing himself as close to Evaríncel's back as he could. On either side, he watched his friends do the same. For a few minutes, there was nothing. Then, just as he had contemplated releasing his vice-grip on the saddle to shield his eyes from the wind, he saw it. It appeared as a wall of darkness that swept through the mountains like a flood. He felt his dragon tense and then it was on them. A wall was about as accurate as he could have hoped. The wind slammed Evaríncel sideways and he groaned beneath the blow. The raindrops fell like stones, stinging every inch of exposed skin they could reach.

The wingbeats that had been so effortless were now labored and took extraordinary amounts of effort. The white dragon's lips pulled back as he bared his teeth with effort. Rowan and Bodrin, who were currently in the lead, dropped several feet as the storm hit them, then struggled to climb back to a safe height. For the first time on the journey, Thane felt a sliver of fear. They had flown in storms while in Vrenbana. It had been part of their training. However, those storms had usually been weakened by the effort of crossing the Mountains of Dawn. This was a storm fresh off the sea, full of strength, and with a full load of rain and lightening to dump on them. The blinding barrage of rain, punctuated every so often by the brilliant flash of lightning and the booming, teeth-rattling response of the thunder, elongated each second into a minute. Evaríncel fought against the elements, barely able to see the dragon in front of him.

Still, even in the chaos of the storm, there were moments of near-ethereal beauty. Whenever the lighting tore open the sky, it glinted off the hides of all four dragons. The sudden flash in the darkness set their scales to shimmering like thousands of mirrors. The pure light that reflected off of Evaríncel's scales burned his eyes, but he found himself unable to look away. Thane's fingers grew numb on the handlebars of his saddle and, despite the waterproof material that covered his bags, he was almost certain that the rain had found its way into his dry clothes. The water that shed from his partner's wings fell away in solid streams. He fancifully imagined them as waterfalls that plunged down into the mountains below, carving streams down their weakened sides.

After what seemed like an hour, Thane felt the touch of Bodrin's mind. "We're almost there. The clearing is just ahead. Start angling downward."

Thane, who had long since buried his face in his shoulder, smiled grimly, _At least we don't have to worry about the fire getting out of hand._

About a minute later, he saw a bright flash of green light. Though he could see neither the dragon nor rider, Thane knew that Rowan must be trying to clear the camp site.

Tapping one of the white scales in front of him, Thane asked, _Can you see them?_

"Yes" Came the tired response. "Hold on, I am going to help him, but we will be pretty close to the mountainside."

Evaríncel pulled up gradually, the gusting winds causing him to wobble. The mountainside appeared as a black mass in the grey twilight of the storm. It loomed above their heads, alternating between plateaus and sheer cliffs. Doing his best to hover, Evaríncel opened his mouth. Thane felt a rumble between his legs, and then he shut his eyes as searing white light erupted from between his dragon's jaws. The pennant of flame sent up a gout of steam as the rain evaporated in mid-air. Below, oily smoke was beginning to rise from the spot where the white flames touched the ground. Moments later, a jet of light-blue flame emerged from the grey haze as Adurngala added his strength to the blaze. When the dark-blue jet he had been expecting didn't appear, Thane cast out his mind, seeking out Ethrunor. After a few seconds of panic, he located his friend. He was about to call out to them, but Evaríncel's voice stopped him.

"She is lighter than we are, and a bit smaller as well. It will have been harder for her to fly in these conditions. Do not remind her of this. They will arrive shortly."

Sure enough, about a minute later, Diruyera swooped so close overhead that Thane was actually able to see her even through the haze of mingled smoke, steam, and rain. The wind shedding off her wings buffeted Evaríncel and the white dragon tipped dangerously far to the left before he was able to right himself. Due to the wet ground, it took nearly five minutes for all four dragons to clear enough space to land. Ethrunor and Diruyera went first at Bodrin's urging, who suggested that they scout the site before the others landed. Thane looked gratefully in the direction of his friend, glad that the man had found a tactful way to allow the dark-blue dragon to land first. Bodrin and Rowan landed next, followed by Thane and Evaríncel, and finally Ralihirn and Adurngala. Even as they landed, the white dragon headed toward a gaping hole in the mountainside. When they crossed the threshold, the stinging raindrops ceased and the howling fury of the wind subsided to a dull roar. Already, Ethrunor had dismounted and had lit one of the flameless lanterns that they each carried with them. It cast a dim, flickering light through the darkness, revealing the extent of the shelter.

The cave was large, large enough for each of the dragons to fit in, if a bit uncomfortably. Three columns of rock, apparently man-made, stretched from floor to ceiling, strengthening the roof of the cavern. Padding to an open spot on the sandy floor, Evaríncel sank down, his chest and sides heaving and froth dripping from the sides of his mouth. Unstrapping his legs, Thane leapt down from his partner's back and hastily removed the saddle and its assortment of bags. As the latter of these thudded to the ground, Thane heard the distinct squelch of wet clothing and groaned inwardly. He sincerely hoped it hadn't managed to reach the books that he had stowed away in the deepest recesses of his bag.

The white dragon blinked gratefully, laying his head on the floor. Around him, the other dragons had made similar motions, the great bellows of their lungs filling the interior of the cave with a steady whooshing noise. Their sides heaved mightily, and none more so than Diruyera's, whose exhausted gasps were audible even from across the cave. Moving to his partner's head, Thane laid a hand on the bony brow.

_Are you alright?_

"Yes, just tired. The storms that Master Maira and Master Halastair had us fly through were not quite so intense."

_Do you need anything?_

A single white eye turned to him and Thane felt a twinge of amusement from his partner. "Quiet would be nice. I need sleep. And after the storm subsides I will likely need to hunt. But for now, the quiet and sleep will suffice."

Leaning his head against the white dragon's forehead, Thane murmured. "You did well. I'm proud of you."

The response was a tired hum and a flicker of gratitude before the connection was severed and Evaríncel drifted off to sleep.


	15. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Keres stared hard at the two small patches of overturned earth that sat at the crest of the hill. The grass was a vibrant shade of emerald green, perfect for the ceremony which was to take place here later in the afternoon. Already, people bustled about all around the raised mound of earth. Tables and benches and chairs were constantly being arranged and re-arranged under the all-seeing eye of a plump woman Keres assumed was the groom's mother. As if the lavish decorations weren't enough of a statement of wealth, the family had contracted the Riders to create the floral arrangements for the wedding. The elves had been understandably reluctant to acquiesce to the demands of the loud woman and her grating attitude, so the riders had been the only other option. Now Keres, under the watchful eye of Master Narilaer, had been tasked with the creation of the flowers and the decorations.

The art of singing to plants was one of the few aspects of magic in which Keres exceeded her master. Eragon was skilled, but Keres, as the Elven rider had stated, had a gift. The elves had harbored a special dislike for her, which stemmed from the numerous conflicts they had had with her mother before her birth. So coming from Narilaer, this was some of the highest praise she could have hoped for. She now glanced over at him. The elf stood silently a few yards away, his gaze fixed on the clouds and his expression relaxed. Even so, she knew that he would be carefully scrutinizing her spell, constantly vigilant for any mispronunciation or poorly chosen word that might sabotage her efforts, or worse, drain her energy completely.

Drawing in a deep breath, Keres closed her eyes. She had found that it was always best to begin this way, for she could visualize what she wanted and that would help her to better create it. Extending her mind outward, she searched until she found the tiny seeds that she had planted in the soil three days earlier. The preparation had involved a trip to the elves new home in Keldenkógr. Two of the elves, a pair of sisters named Stelitzía and Calatheas of house Nógranga had amassed one of the largest repositories of flowers outside of Du Weldenvarden.

It was here that she had gone to select the perfect seed for the flower she envisioned. Despite her history, the two elves were delighted in her interest in their craft and the three has spent hours debating the finer points of singing plants into certain shapes and colors. They had been all too willing to share some tips with her and to teach her small tricks she could use to better recreate the images in her head. After much debate and consideration, she had finally settled on a flower that seemed perfect for what she had in mind: a light blue morning glory. It was a simple flower, but it was beautiful and its shape lent itself well to what she needed.

Keres had sung briefly to them when they had first been planted, and they had now taken root and were reaching toward the surface. Envisioning the flower she had spent days agonizing over, she began to sing. The initial wording of the song was simple. It was a song of strength and life and rain and soil and air. For now, she needed to craft the basic structure that she desired. In her mind's eye, she saw the white-skinned vines rise out of the ground.

She continued to sing, urging the main bodies of the vines to thicken and take the shape she needed them to. She sang of patterns and shapes. The song was low and slow, almost ponderous in its melody. Soon, she could hear the cracking and groaning of wood. Opening her eyes, she stared at the arch-like arbor that she had created. The wood was a bright white, the white of fresh paint, and though the wood at the base of each pillar was solid, once the vines had reached waist-height, they split into several branches which branched out in intricate patterns before weaving together in a beautiful canopy at the very pinnacle of the arch. Adding a few verses to stabilize the vines, she set to work on the flower. This part was always her favorite. The words spoke of beauty and colors and delicate petals. The words trilled their way up the scale, dropping in the air like rain. The melody was fast and light and danced like a hummingbird on the air. As she watched, the image in her mind burst into bloom before her eyes.

The flowers were a brilliant, sky blue. In truth, the color in her mind was the iridescent blue of Narilaer's dragon, Nyokatare. However their centers, along with a single stripe of color that ran from the base to the tip of each petal, were bright pink. Clusters of flowers exploded into being. They grew in size until each was nearly four inches in diameter. She continued to sing, imbibing the flowers with brilliance and beauty and the hardiness to endure in the warm climate that reigned in Vrenbana, until she felt her chest begin to tighten. It was only when her breathing became labored that she ceased her song. Shaking herself, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. It was, by far, the most difficult planting she had attempted in one sitting. However, she thought that the attempt had come as close to the image in her mind as she was capable of coming.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Narilaer strode past her to inspect her creation. He studied it for a few moments, probing the wood and gently brushing the petals with his fingertips. Nodding to himself, he turned to her. "It is a good, strong plant. When the wedding is over, you should return and construct a frame for them. They are beautiful. It would be a shame to let them die."

She bowed, "Of course, Ebrithil."

His glowing blue eyes narrowed. "Your spells are improving. You did not specify how you wanted the striped on the petal to look, yet I am assuming that they came out as you intended?" She nodded and a faint light of approval came into his gaze. "You feelings and intent are strong enough that they outweigh the words you speak. That is well done, Keres-ungr."

Her cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise and she bowed again. "Thank you, Narilaer-elda." She always felt awe when dealing with the elves. Somehow, they seemed closer to her than the humans, than even her master. They were born of magic, as she was. Though Eragon might look like an elf, he had spent his early years as a human. He was born a human. She was not. Though she might have looked more human than her master, she knew that she was less. Her reflexes had always been faster, her senses sharper, and her body stronger than any human. She had been made with magic, molded within her mother's womb. This was part of the reason that the elves had resented her. To them, she was an abomination, a deviation of the natural order of things. Blödh Burthro, they called her, Blood Born. This was a reference to the rituals that her mother had performed in order to turn a human fetus into a creature far stronger.

Despite their aversion to her, she had always harbored a deep respect for the elves. She believed that it was this, above all else, that had allowed the elvish riders to accept her and had prompted the elves living within Vrenbana to tolerate her presence. As she had gotten further along in her apprenticeship, Eragon had utilized this affinity for elves in order to lighten some of his duties as a mentor. When he was particularly busy with his duties as leader of the Dragon Riders, he would send Keres to the elves for training in fields that he was less comfortable in. Aside from planting spells, Eragon had sent her to the elves to study healing magic and the more philosophical branches of magic such as element assimilation.

She had always loved the days of training with the elves. Training with Eragon had never been monotonous, but the variety that these infrequent sessions added had allowed her time to reflect on her mentor's teaching methods, both what she thought he did well and the things he did that frustrated her. Today, however, the break in her training with Eragon was a welcome surprise. Her master had grown increasingly taciturn of late. Despite the fact that her training sessions had seen a sharp increase in intensity, her master rarely displayed the satisfaction at her performance that she had come to expect. She prided herself in performing to his high standards and, when possible, exceeding them. Previously, he had never shown any dissatisfaction with her effort. Yet lately his comments had become more acerbic and he watched her with a look that she had been unable to place.

And the strain was beginning to tell on her. The bags beneath her eyes grew ever darker and larger. Her muscles ached with the constant stress she was placing on them and, with each passing day, she woke up feeling a little more fatigued. She sighed, rolling her stiff shoulders as she began her descent down the hill. If this was a simple matter of testing her breaking point, which he had done twice before, she would not have been so confused. However, something within his demeanor told her that this was not the case. He was too upset, too critical for this to have just been another test. Something was bothering him. The slide had begun after her training session with the other apprentices and had gradually grown worse until his behavior had become nearly unbearable.

At first, Keres had maintained her self-control, convincing herself that he was just having a bad week or was feeling particularly irritable. As the days of biting comments and crushing training schedules had turned into weeks, she had begun to lose her temper. This had led to several heated arguments between her and her master. On three separate occasions, Saphira or Vikonyx had seen fit to intervene. With any other master, Keres' sense of decorum would have prevented her from voicing her grievances, but with Eragon, she couldn't help voicing the small, snide comments that inevitably led to their arguments. Of late, however, she had been too exhausted to argue.

As if following her train of thought, Narilaer turned to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "That will be it for the day. You should go and recover." Though he didn't add "It appears that you need it" she could sense the implied meaning. Giving him a grateful smile, she turned away from the hill and reached out with her mind toward her partner. She found the black dragon polishing off a meal high in the mountains. For the hundredth time that week, Keres felt a twinge of guilt that her exhaustion seemed to be carrying over to Vikonyx. The black dragon had been sharing her energy so that Keres could complete the more difficult and complex tasks Eragon was asking of her. Her growing exhaustion had only exacerbated the problem as she often fumbled in her spell casting, wasting precious energy.

After relaying the results of her efforts, Keres quickly informed her dragon of her destination before cutting off the contact. She wouldn't go back to Cieráed. There was a chance that Eragon would be there and that he would insist on continuing her training. What she needed more than anything else was a nap. Moreover, she knew the perfect place to take one. The hill, luckily, had been on the northwest side of Thralmurdras. Now she needed only to go south to reach one of her favorite spots in the entire valley. Skirting the last few houses of the city, Keres strode out into the waving grass of the plains. It took nearly an hour of walking before her destination came into view.

She smelled it first, the faintest hint of sweet amidst the earthy smell of the plains. Then, Keres crested a rise and smiled as she saw Du Gata Arnafëon spread out in front of her. The Path of Starflowers had been aptly named. Five-pedaled flowers of all colors waved gaily in the afternoon sunlight. Their light, sweet scent hung in the air, mingling with the crisp, refreshing breeze that wafted off the nearby river. The Gjera River was one of the many branches that flowed from Lake Miraloft. On this particular branch, the bright flowers continued all the way down to the river's edge, which ended in a steep embankment. Perched at the very age was an ancient tree. Its green canopy hung thick with silver-grey moss studded with white flowers.

It was toward this tree that she now strode, using magic to lift herself into the upper branches. Through a gap in the greenery, she could see the faint outlines of Thralmurdras' various buildings and, still further away, the glint of sunlight off the gem at the top of Cieráed. The thick branch on which she reclined swayed slightly in the breeze, a soft rocking motion that dulled the ache in her muscles. Reaching into her satchel, she removed a small roll, a strip of dried meat, and a peach. Only the grumbling of her stomach could have overridden the need for sleep. It took only a few minutes for her to polish off the entire meal and she leaned back, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the smooth bark of the trunk. Whatever her troubles with her master might be, for the moment, they seemed far away. The day was bright, the air was sweet, and it was cool beneath the shade of the trees. In that moment, the world was perfect. So Keres drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face and, for once, the dreams of darkness fled her mind.


	16. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The storm had lasted nearly two whole days, most of which Thane and his friends had spent huddled in the cave. Combined with the fact that the dragons had needed to hunt as soon as the wind abated, the entire debacle had cost them nearly three days. Fearful of getting caught in another deluge, the group had elected to forge ahead with all speed. With the forced flights, they had made up ground and were only 5 days outside of Alagaësia. Thane could feel the excitement of the dragon beneath him. Despite the steadiness of his wingbeats, Thane knew his partner was exhausted. They all were. Long days in the saddle left Thane and the other riders cramped and sore.

Using the mirror Eragon had sent with them, they had contacted Arya and Fírnen to announce their imminent arrival. Though he had only distant memories of the Elf Queen, Thane had found himself just as awed by her as he had in his childhood. The regal she-elf was striking and radiated authority, even through the glass. Fírnen had been visible only as a great, emerald eye that hovered behind her. The new riders would report to her in Du Weldenvarden for a final ceremony before moving on to their final destinations. It was tradition for new riders and their dragons to renew their oaths to both the order of the Dragon Riders and the protection of Alagaësia. They would also present their swords as a token of their status as fully recognized riders.

"Don't start this again."

Thane couldn't help but smile at the note of exasperation in his partner's voice. Each of the new riders had been eager to display their new blades and even more eager to test them out in sparring matches. The most ferocious of these had left Ethrunor with a notch in his horn, Bodrin with a broken arm, and Thane with a cracked rib. Though Ralihirn had escaped without serious injury, his attempt to look dignified as he hobbled toward the fire on a dead leg had drawn howls of amusement from his peers. It had been days before he spoke to them again. If nothing else, the bout had proven how well matched the riders and their blades were.

Ralihirn had elected to refit an old rider's blade named Skjórmen, the Sea Jewel. The blade was shorter than the ones that Thane was used to, but the single-edged sword was perfect for the slashing style that the fleet-footed elf favored. The rounded end of the sword allowed it to easily slide through both flesh and bone without catching. The style of sword was called the Dao and had come from the elves homeland. Ralihirn was unusually proud to carry a traditional elf-weapon, and even more proud of recounting the history of the blade, which had been wielded by the elf-rider Zarei, he who had been called The Wave Dancer. His name, the tale had claimed, was well given, as Zarei had been said to be so light-footed, he could run across the surface of a lake without wetting his feet.

Bodrin had also chosen to wield the blade of a former rider. Laufnyr was a broadsword, or basked-hilted sword, an unusual weapon for a rider. Both edges were blunted, but the tip was sharpened to a point that could easily slip between ribs or into the joints of armor. By far, its most impressive feature was the guard. Carved in the likeness of a twisted bramble bush, the structure boasted several, small spines that protruded outward. When he held the blade, his hand vanished beneath the tangle of metal and Laufnyr truly appeared as an extension of his arm. It was one of the few blades that had been forged for a human rider. Little was known about Rulac and his dragon Kolidor other than the fact that they were one of the earliest human and dragon pairs. Truth be told, Laufnyr was one of the oldest blades the Riders possessed. Recovered from the treasure room of the traitor king, its name was only known thanks to one of the Eldunarí, an old, wild dragon, who had learned the name from his dam.

Ethunor had been the only rider in their cohort, other than Thane, who had decided to forge their own blade. This was to be expected, however, as the original Rider's blades had not been made for creatures as massive as the urgals. They could use heavier weapons and needed longer reach to make them effective. The cleaver falchion, which he had named Jierdum, was every bit as terrifying as its wielder. True to its type, the blade looked like a giant meat cleaver with a single edge that could hack down trees with a single stroke. The urgal had already demonstrated this ability at one of their later campsites when Thane had commented on a need for firewood. This had also been the source of Bodrin's broken arm during their duel. With a blunted edge, the strength of Ethurnor's arm could turn the sword into a giant club that was every bit as dangerous as its bladed counterpart.

Though the bouts of sparring brought a small measure of novelty into the day, they couldn't eradicate the sense of monotony. Both the dragons and riders were, therefore, relieved when the mountains finally gave way to flat, open plains. Beneath them, the Roran River continued in a silver, unbroken line that snaked its way through the green expanse. Eventually, it would flow into the Gaena River, which ran through Du Weldenvarden, but that was still nearly a full day's ride ahead. It was in the openness surrounding the river that Ralihirn first spotted the ship. It was winding its way down-river, heading in the direction of Vrenbana. Adurngala banked toward it and the others followed suit. As they neared, Thane caught sight of the flag that rippled in the light of the setting sun. A white field boasted the silvery symbol of the gedwëy ignasia bisected by a single, blue sword. In the upper left-hand corner, an emerald, five-pointed star glistened, mirrored in the lower right-hand corner by a crimson star.

Thane felt a faint rumbling between his legs and barely managed to cover his ears in time as Evaríncel loosed a trumpeting roar. From below, a fainter, higher-pitched roar answered. They were only a few hundred feet above the ship when the four dragons pulled up and began to circle. As they did so, the ship slowed to a halt. They heard the clang and splash of an anchor being lowered, and then a single horn rang out. The waiting dragons descended more slowly, landing on the shore and folding their wings. As Thane began to dismount, he heard a shout of welcome and turned to see two rowboats approaching. Foremost in one stood a massive figure, a bear of a man with broad, swelling shoulders and wild brown hair.

He leapt onto the shore, pulling the boat behind him despite the four other individuals who were still in it. Straightening, he looked over to where the riders were standing. "Ralihirn and Thane is it? And Bodrin and . . . no wait don't tell me . . ." He squinted at the urgal who was waiting expectantly. Then the hairy face brightened and the man slapped his thigh, "Ethrunor! Aye, begging your pardon but I can't tell you urgals apart. All look the same to me. But that dragon, blue like the sea, I remember her."

He shook hands with each of them and Thane hastily counted his fingers when the grip was released, uncertain if they had all survived. Turning his attention to the dragons, he brazenly stepped up to each of them, examining their frames. "Adurngala, our lookout man almost missed ya, blended right into the sky you did. Like a reflection. And Evaríncel, of course I remember you. Only white dragon I've ever transported. Gods you've grown. Rowan, I'd recognize that shade of green anywhere. And let's not forget Diruyera, one of the prettiest little dragons I'd ever seen. You're still lovely as ever."

Thane and Bodrin exchanged an incredulous glance. It never failed to amaze them that Oberon could remember every single dragon and rider he had ever met. Oberon Windshear was the captain of the Wandering Bark, one of the ships in the employ of the Dragon Riders. His grandfather had been hand-picked by Eragon to ferry new dragons and their riders to Vrenbana to complete their formal training. The job had been handed down to his father and now to him, and it was quite likely that his son, who was busy tethering the rowboat to the shore, would take the job after him.

Ethrunor, clearly pleased at the praise being heaped upon his dragon, bobbed his horned head. "Bear-Man, it is good to see you again. You are returning to Vrenbana yes? Does that mean you have new riders?"

"Of course." Oberon gestured toward the second boat, which was being moored by a member of his crew. The four other passengers, one crewman and two young children, had already stepped out onto the shore. The last occupant was climbing daintily out of the boat. Her short, honey-blond hair was perfectly brushed and her dark-blue dress perfectly matched her eyes. Passing between the two children, she strode over to stand beside her husband. She inclined her head in a slight bow, "We are well met Dragon Riders."

As one, the four riders returned the gesture, and Thane murmured, "Well met indeed Master Yisabel." All of them had learned early on that, when dealing with the swordmistress, showing the utmost courtesy was the safest option. She had been hand-chosen by Eragon to train the young dragon riders in the art of swordsmanship on their way to Vrenbana. In truth, she was a master of all blades, from the massive longsword to the smallest butter knife. However, she was equally well known for her passive-aggressive style of teaching. Many a young rider had discovered that there was nothing more frustrating during a 4-hour training session than a condescending smile on the face of a woman. Thane remembered wondering how Oberon could bear to spend so much time in her company, but had eventually given up attempting to solve the mystery. Now, standing before her all these years later, he could see a glimmer of pride in her dark eyes as she studied the boys she had trained so carefully.

Even more surprisingly, he felt a surge of delight in her expression. She had been a strict taskmaster, drilling the art of swordsmanship into each of the young riders. However, Thane had come to realize that there were several other important lessons she had begun to instill in him. Attention to detail, pride in his personal appearance, and patience in the face of adversity had all been critical lessons he had first been exposed to under her watchful eye. Her methods may have been strange, it had been many years before Thane had understood why it was so important that his clothing be ironed and his hair be brushed to attend sword practice, but in later years, they have made sense.

Having scrutinized each of the young men, she turned and nodded in the direction of the young children who remained uncertainly beside the boat. "They are young, but they are learning." The nearest was a young urgal. His grey skin was smooth and unmarked and, despite his apparent youth, layers of hard muscle rippled along his frame. Beside him stood a boy, no older than thirteen or fourteen. His hair was auburn and his glittering eyes were a bright shade of green. Even as Thane watched, two shapes, one garnet and one a bright, vivid shade of green, detached themselves from the deck of the ship and jumped into the air. The concussions sounded strangely muted to him as he was used to the thunderous crashes of Evaríncel's wings. They flapped hard, crossing the waters swiftly to land next to the two children who stood on the bank.

Oberon motioned for them to come closer. "Alright you two, don't be shy. You'll be around more dragons and riders soon enough so best get used to it." The two young riders glanced at each other before moving forward to stand a few yards away. The two dragons came more slowly, their glimmering eyes darting to and fro between the shapes of the larger dragons.

The urgal stepped forward first, the green dragon pacing along at his side. The child was small, smaller than Thane could ever remember Ethrunor being.

"Remember," Evaríncel reminded, "Ethrunor is a kull. This youngling may yet grow, but it does not appear that he has the old blood."

The young urgal lifted his head, baring his throat before speaking. "I am Raierkak of the Malvok tribe. This is Venom." He gestured to the dragon at his side. Thane had to admit that the name was as apt as any he had ever heard. The dragon was the larger of the two, standing a few inches taller than his rider. As Rowan pushed his head forward, the smaller male hissed, flaring his wings slightly. The urgal shot a glance at his partner as Rowan's lips curled in an expression that appeared half amused, half annoyed. A low, inaudible rumble escaped the larger green dragon. The smaller dragon cowered slightly, lowering his head. In his mind, Thane heard Evaríncel chuckle softly.

"My name," said the human, "is Veric Enck and this is my partner Pyrekine." The garnet dragon was looking around with interest at his older kin. He strode up to Diruyera without fear, though, Thane noted, he did pick the smallest of the dragons to approach. Even so, the blue female was still four times as large as the young male and could easily have swatted him aside like a knat. She lowered her massive head and sniffed him, the gusting breath catching in his small wings.

Clapping his hands, Oberon spoke. "You boys were quite lucky to catch us when you did. We were just about to stop for the night. A dinner among friends will be a welcome distraction after your long flight, I think." Looking over at the dragons he smiled sheepishly, "I regret to say that I have not fare for four behemoths."

"That is no matter." Evaríncel said, flicking his tail dismissively. "We will hunt for now." Lowering his head to stare at the green dragon he growled, "You, youngling, are your claws sharp? Are your wings swift?" For a moment, an emotion that may have been trepidation crossed the eyes of the small dragon, but then he lifted his head, raking the ground with his claws. The white dragon growled with approval. To Thane he said, "I go east. Look for us before moon-high." He leapt into the air, buffeting them with wind from his wings as he climbed. A moment later, the small green dragon followed, his smaller body like a shadow of his white kin. They circled twice, then streaked off away from the setting sun. Within moments, Diruyera took flight as well, with the second young dragon at her side. Rowan and Adurngala remained on the ground. The riders had long since learned that their dragons refused to leave them unguarded for any length of time. The belief that riders were magnets for trouble was apparently very prevalent amongst dragon-society.

It took only minutes for the group to settle around a large fire. Chunks of meat roasted on spits over the open flame, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma. Oberon had brought out several flasks of mead and two bottles of wine and they now sat, regaling him with tales of the goings-on in Vrenbana. Finally, as he drained a glass of wine, Ralihirn asked, "So, how go things in Alagaësia?"

One of the deck hands, a scarred man named Greyling shrugged, "They go much as they have gone the last few years. The King and Queen are well, and their son is well liked by the people. He will make a good ruler, I think. The Magicians' Guild is still attempting to extend their reach into Surda. Queen Maywren has, as of yet, refused them access. King Orik of the dwarves has had another daughter. Geez, the celebration must have gone on for what, two, three weeks?" He chuckled, taking another draft from his flagon before continuing. "Supposedly the Spine has seen a sharp rise in population, but that's not too surprising. With Carvahall, Therinsford, and Tierm becoming such large settlements, small villages have been popping up on the roads between them. A few months back, there were rumors of a shade near Furnost, but never heard anything about it afterwards so it's likely as not they were just that, rumors."

"I'd imagine the Magicians' Guild went ballistic over it anyways." Ralihirn snorted.

"Well, it's not exactly something to ignore." Thane pointed out. "If it's not true, great. If it is true, then better to be proactive."

The elf shook his head, "And what, exactly, could they have done against a shade? You know, better than most, that half the magicians there can barely do more than levitate a stone. The only thing they could have accomplished, had there been a shade, is getting themselves killed."

"He's right, Thane." Bodrin said. "The best thing they could have done is sat back and let one of us handle it."

"More like two or three of us." Thane amended.

"Do not joke." Ethrunor broke in. "Even with Eragon and Arya, there have only been four people to kill a shade. The red-hair demons are best left alone."

"Enough" Oberon's rough voice cracked like a whip. All eyes turned to him as he grasped one of the spits of meat and pulled it from the fire. "Don't you know that speaking of such things draws in evil? Enough talk of darkness. Here we have light and food. Let us eat and forget such things."

There was silence for a few seconds, then Ethrunor reached forward and grabbed his own spit from the flames. "He is right. And at any rate, there are more important matters to attend to. We have just met our brothers for the first time. We should learn more about them and answer any questions they might have." The mood lightened almost immediately as Bodrin seconded the motion, taking a large bite out of his meal. All eyes turned to the two young riders, who looked thoroughly sorry that their presence had been remembered.

Feeling a slight twinge of pity, Thane smiled at them. "Well, go on. I know you have questions. I had loads of them when I first went to Vrenbana. May as well ask them while you can."

He was, therefore, unready for the explosion of questions that his words evoked. "What are Eragon and Saphira like? Is Vrenbana big? Are there really wild dragons? Will we get to see any? Where will we stay? Can they teach us any magic?" The furious deluge left him dumbstruck and staring at his friends. As he drew in a deep breath, struggling to organize his thoughts, Thane wondered if he mightn't regret extending the invitation.


	17. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_That second rate, murdering, ikragen, varil . . ._

"Well, I'm sure Eragon would be pleased to know that he has finally brought the races together. He might be less excited to learn that it was in a string of curse words direct at him." Ignoring the barbed comment, Keres continued her rant, selecting a few choice words from both urgal and dwarvish before Vikonyx slapped her tail against the ground. "Curb your tongue." The sharp crack of her scales against the cobblestone street drew nervous glances from the citizens who moved around them. If they had been given a reasonable berth before, the elves, urgals, humans, and dwarves now moved toward the very edges of the street as they passed, clearing a space around the dragon and rider. The black head lowered to glare into the eyes of the young rider, "Such language ill becomes you."

The volume of her growl made Keres' head throb and she snapped, _Shut up. I don't see Saphira pushing you like this. Even you have to admit that this is absolute malgrîn._ She thought it wiser to use the dwarf curse, rather than the numerous other words that she thought described her current situation.

To her surprise, she felt a tinge of doubt and sympathy temper her partner's mood."Your frustration is understandable. How is your arm?"

Keres cursed again as she glanced down at her left arm. She had received a rather severe cut from one of Vikonyx's neck spines during an aerial combat training session. The drain on her magic had been such that she had depleted or dispelled several of her wards to keep from using up all of her energy. The results had been a numb extremity, a bloodstain that had nearly ruined one of her favorite shirts, and a lecture from Eragon on the importance of wards and how arrogant she must have been to not use them. Even now, a week later, the injury still pained her. She had been unable to heal it completely as she was using up most of her energy to keep up with the exercises Eragon continued to heap upon her. The muscles had been healed, but the skin was still torn and covered only by a crisp, white bandage.

Yet again her partner spoke up. "You could use my strength."

_No_ Keres said sharply, looking up at her partner. _You've already exhausted yourself helping me. I can't ask any more than what you've already done._

"Then you should tell Eragon what's wrong. I'm sure he'd listen."

_NO!_ The answer came out more strongly than she had actually intended. _No. I can't complain to him. If he thinks I can do this . . . then I guess I can._

"You and your stupid pride. You'll break yourself."

_Maybe. But damned if I'm going to ask him to lay off. _The ornate entrance of the Library of Jeod came into view ahead of her and she sighed, _Well, guess this is my stop . . . again._

Vikonyx lowered her head, touching her muzzle to her rider's shoulder. "Take the rest while you can." When Keres put her arms around the armored head, the black dragon blew a hot breath over her face. "I love you, heart-sister."

_And I love you._ With a soft sigh, Keres let go of her partner and turned toward the building. Despite her annoyance, Keres couldn't help but admire the graceful, flowing lines of the buildings. With the exception of Cieráed, the library was her favorite building in Vrenbana. Though Eragon had told her that the library was a mere fraction of the size its predecessor reached, Keres could barely imagine a structure holding more books. Only the Riders' home fortress surpassed it in size. The arched, double door bore an inscription in the ancient language. As always, she murmured a translation beneath her breath as she pushed open the door. "The sands of time cannot be stopped years pass whether we will them or not, but we can remember. WShat has been lost may yet live on in memories, that which you will hear is imperfect and fragmented yet treasure it for without you it does not exist."

The inside of the library was lit with natural light that streamed through the many windows of colored glass. The entrance hall was lined with several fairths detailing various images. One showed Ilirea before the fall of the riders. Opposite it sat a fairth of the modern-day city. One frame held an image of Du Weldenvarden in the moonlight, while another showed a sunrise over the Beor Mountains. A, a second row, which hung above the first, was comprised of various portraits of individuals who had left some great mark on history. There was Korgan, the first king of the dwarves, Evandar, the father of Arya who had been king of the elves, Roran Stronghammer, cousin of Eragon, Vrael, the leader of the Riders who was murdered by the mad king, Ajihad, who had been a leader of the Varden, and his daughter, Nasuada, who had become queen after Galbatorix was overthrown. Amongst those who had been hailed as heroes, there were also darker images. There was picture of Galbatorix, the mad king who had brought down the Dragon Riders, and Morzan, the first and last of the Foresworn. Lord Barst, who killed the Elf-Queen Islanzadí was also represented, as was Durza, the shade who had attempted to recover Saphira's egg. Amidst all of these was a image of a beautiful, brown-haired woman, Eragon's mother, Selena, the Black Hand.

Each frame was engraved with the subject matter and the name of the person who had created the image. It had been a goal of Keres' to eventually create a fairth that would hang in the library. In the center of the entranceway was a single, limestone statue of a man. A rapier was belted to his side and he gazed out at the doors with an expression of delighted interest. He was long and slender, but his clothes were of good make. A single scar traced its way down his face, standing out sharply against his otherwise smooth skin. On the base of the statue was etched the name Jeod Longshanks.

She had asked once, why Eragon hadn't chosen to write more. He had told her that he didn't feel Jeod needed any more. His story was well known, but Jeod never wanted the spotlight. He loved history, but never considered himself a part of it. Moving past the statue, Keres stepped into the atrium. Rows and rows of books lined the walls around her with two other floors reaching up toward the ceiling, which boasted an elaborate painting of wild dragons. The main building was square in shape, but each of the four corners had a tower that stretched up into a third and fourth level. In the center of the room was a fifth staircase that wound up and up until it disappeared into the ceiling. These four corners each had a small array of statues that sat in alcoves built into the walls.

Around the front, left corner were three statues. In one alcove, the likness of Eragon, the first Dragon Rider stood proundly. On his left was a tall, beautiful woman in a long, delicately carved cape. Her face was proud and fierce and the eagle-like eyes stared out over the library with life-like intensity. The name-plate marked her as Islanzadí, the former queen of the Elves and mother of Arya Shadeslayer. A statue of her daughter stood to her left. The Elf-Queen appeared every bit the monarch her mother was. Her stance was strong and, in her hand, she bore the blade Támerlein. Their statues marked the entrance to the spire of the library which housed all the work currently written about the elves and their culture. The staircase was carved in the likeness of tree branches, with finely carved leaves extending from the hand and guardrails.

The tower in the back, left corner was devoted to works on the urgals. It boasted only two statues, but they were, by-far, the largest in the room, owing to the fact that the subjects had been depicted in life-size. The name-plate of the larger statues read "Nar Garzvhog: War Chief of the Bolvek Tribe." The Kull was huge, far larger than any of the urgals currently in Vrenbana. Muscles bulged in every inch of his strong frame, as if the actual urgal was trapped beneath the stone and struggling to free himself. His head was lowered, covering the throat in a fierce challenge and his hands were wrapped around the hilt of a massive club. Of all the statues in the room, Keres thought that this might be the most terrifying. Standing beside him was a statue of Logrundag of the Ulvat Tribe, the first urgal Rider. He was significantly smaller than the urgal chieftan, but his form was no less intimidating for the size difference. This statue held special significance for her as it had been Logrundag's dragon, Mistrider, who had spoken to her immediately after Vikonyx hatched. The stairway in this section was made to look like rough-hewn wood and was decorated with several, strange carvings that she recognized as major figures from Urgal culture.

Opposite the Urgal section, in the front, right corner, was the section dedicated to the Dwarves. Three statues stood in this area, but they were no less striking for their shorter stature. The closest to her was Hrothgar, the previous King of the Dwarves. His chest was broad, as were his shoulders, and he had a long beard that fell nearly to his feet. In his hands was the warhammer Volund. Keres remembered there being some dissent when his statue had been interred here, but she could understand why Eragon had chosen to immortalize the king in such a way. Had he not accepted Eragon into Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, Orik might not have become King, which could have potentially kept the dwarves out of the Rider War. More importantly, if Orik hadn't been King, the dwarves might have declined to enter into the pact with the dragons. What might have originally been viewed as a petty gesture to gain control over Eragon had ultimately set a major wheel in motion.

Next to Hrothgar were two more statues. One was of the current dwarven ruler, Orik. The statue was of his younger self, the Orik that Eragon had been friends with. His beard was braided and tucked into his belt. The dwarven crown was upon his head and, instead of Volund, he held a mighty, double-bladed battle axe. The final figure was that of Tarehlak, the first dwarven rider. His had been the first of the eggs found in the ruins of Doru Areba that had hatched. Keres had heard legends of the dwarven party that the birth had kicked off, some of which stated that the feasting had lasted for months. Given what she knew of dwarves, there was at least a decent possibility that this was true. Their staircase was created to look like stone and it ascended in steep, shallow steps.

The final corner was dedicated to the Humans. As with all but the urgals, it boasted three statues. In one alcove, Eragon stood tall and proud. Next to him stood a figure Keres recognized only from her master's memories. Brom, father of Eragon, was old, but strong. He carried a staff in his hand and he was dressed like a storyteller, in a long cloak and modest attire. Beside them stood a third figure who was slightly taller than the other two. Here was Murtagh, son of Morzan, half-brother of Eragon. He and his dragon, Thorn, had disappeared after Galbatorix's defeat, but Eragon still held out hope that they would one day return to Vrenbana. This stairwell was made of wrought iron and spiraled upward in a webwork of angled metal.

"Keres! Back again?" The voice of River Seamusson sounded from off to her left and she turned to see the man clambering down a ladder with a book beneath his arm.

She smiled, "River, how have you been?"

"Eh, not too bad. We got in a new set of books earlier this week, a set of poetry. I've spent a few days trying to catalogue them, but it hasn't been easy."

She bobbed her head a few times, "Who's the author?"

"Remeau"

"He has a new set out?"

"Yeah, a collaboration with some up-and-coming composer. There's actually music scripted for each of the poems. Were I not rhythmically challenged, I might find them easier to read."

They laughed for a moment before shook himself. "Well, I imagine you're here on Eragon's orders?" When she grimaced, he smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Your reading spot is open. Feel free to take all the time you want."

Laying her hand over his, she smiled back, "Thanks River."

The motion flexed her injured arm and she winced slightly, her smile faltering. A flicker of concern flashed across his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit sore."

"You're sure? You look kind of . . ." He trailed off as she raised an eyebrow, waiting to see how he intended to finish his sentence. His ears turned scarlet and he lowered his gaze, fumbling with the book under his arm. To her chagrin, one of the older librarians called him over and he dashed off, muttering an apology under his breath. With a final, reluctant glance at the retreating figure, Keres moved over to the set of stairs in the middle of the room. They were built inside a single, massive column that rose into the domed roof. Very few people were allowed to use these stairs. She pulled open the nearly invisible door, grasping it by the dragon-shaped knocker and tugging it closed behind her.

The stairs were steep, but the passage was comfortable enough. Flameless lanterns were set into the wall at intervals, lighting her way with faint, golden beams. She climbed doggedly, ignoring the protest of her legs. Even so, her breath came faster and her steps slowed as she labored up a section of the stair and found a small landing. A single window allowed light into the passage and the sudden brightness hurt her eyes. Blinking to clear the spots from her field of vision, she picked out an old elf in a high-backed chair. As she approached, he set down the scroll he was reading and lifted his eyes to her. She stopped a respectful distance away and, twisting her hand over her sternum, murmured, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Leonathi."

His blue eyes sparkled as he returned the gesture, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr, Keres-ungr."

Deciding to forego the final line of the greeting, she gestured toward the stone staircase, "Atra eka innga?"

A flicker of something that might have been annoyance passed through the old elf's eyes, but he inclined his head. "Ïkla, taka onr avi."

"Elrun ono." Without a second glance, she strode up the few remaining stairs, doing her best to look as dignified as possible. The books contained in the room above were considered too dangerous for the general populace. Several were books written on various aspects of magic. Some discussed the experiments performed by the elves in regards to attempting to raise the dead. In one corner sat the few books that contained information on the Grey Folk. Though most books on sorcery were available to the general public, there were a few, darker books which were housed here, where only certain people had access to it. Her favorite books in the collection, were those on wild magic, and she spotted a few of the tomes she had read in their usual places on the shelves. The most valuable books, and incidentally, the ones that she was there to read, were the four compendiums that had been taken from the library of the tyrant king.

The books were thick and bound with faded leather. Each was handwritten and contained a list of names in the Ancient Language. However, the books lacked order. Two had been written in alphabetical order, but the other two contained a seemingly random series of words, forcing her to spend hours looking through pages to find the words she needed. Opening the pouch at her side, she removed a sheaf of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill. The parchment already contained the list of fifteen words she was looking for. Striding over to the nearest tome, she spread the parchment on the provided podium and looked down to find the first word. "Lightning . . ."

Ikagrin – Dwarvish term for a person of low intellegence

Varil – lack-horned (an urgal term of disrespect)

Atra esterní ono thelduin, Leonathi. - May good fortune rule over you, Leonathi.

Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr, Keres-ungr. – May peace live within your heart, young Keres

Atra eka innga? – May I enter?

Ïkla, taka onr avi. – Please, take your time.

Elrun ono. – Thank you.


	18. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Thane and his friends reached Ceris by noon the following day. It was small, as elf cities went, only boasting a population of around 200 individuals. However, they were the most human-like elves Thane had ever met. Perhaps it was due to the fact that trade from all races ran down the river, but these elves seemed altogether more friendly and comfortable than some of the elves Thane had met in Vrenbana. As if to underscore this fact, the city was also built more similarly to a human structure than any Thane had ever seen. As opposed to being sung out of wood or sculpted out of stone, the buildings were constructed using driftwood. Even more intriguing, some of the houses had been built into the low hills that stood between the river and the trees. Thus the houses were mantled in a deep, vibrant blanket of green grass and brightly colored wildflowers. All in all, it was one of the most tranquil places Thane could ever remember seeing.

In keeping with tradition, the four dragons and riders lingered there only for a few hours. The city was not equipped to host full-grown dragons. Occasionally, if the weather was poor, the Wandering Bark or another of the Dragon Rider ships would stop here, but this was always on their way to Vrenbana, when the dragons were typically no larger than a horse. None of their cohort had ever stayed here for any length of time, however, Thane recalled an amusing tale in which Bitxi and Chryssa had been forced to take shelter in one of the stables typically reserved for the elves' horses. Bitxi had apparently been unfazed, but the story of Chryssa's indignation was near-legendary. They paused here only long enough to take a meal with their elvish hosts and to allow their dragons to rest before the homestretch of their journey.

So it was with great excitement that Thane climbed back into the saddle for what he hoped would be the last time in a long time. In spite of the rest, he could tell that his partner was exhausted. The usually brilliant scales, while still beautiful, were dull and when the dragon moved, the motions were slow and stiff. The other dragons fairly equally poorly, if not worse. For once, Diruyera's diminutive size had worked to her advantage in that she carried less weight than the others. However, even the relatively gentle dragon was becoming irritable as the journey exacted its toll. But it was nearly over. The four dragons now winged their way over vast swaths of green forest, heading toward the elf capitol. Beneath them, the trees swayed like a living, emerald carpet that stretched across the face of the world, appearing to go on to the edge of existence. Ralihirn and Adurngala had taken the lead, as they were the most familiar with the layout of the forest, so when they began to angle downward, the other dragons followed without question.

Dropping through the canopy, Evaríncel thundered to a halt and looked around curiously. "Why are we landing?" There was no visible reason for the descent. The trees here appeared no different from the ones on the forest's edge, save that they were substantially larger in girth and appeared to be much older.

"There is another barrier here." Ralihirn called, as if in answer to the question. He was staring to the west, his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to discern something none of them could see. "Gilderien the Wise, who wields the White Flame of Vándil, stands guard over Ellesméra. His magic prevents anyone from entering save by his leave. We must ask for his permission to enter the forest."

"And it is granted." The voice startled them all, including the dragons. A tall, thin elf in flowing robes stepped from behind a tree. His long, snow-white hair was bound behind his back and a circle of gold adorned his brow. The robes were embroidered with a series of intricately woven glyphs that shimmered and flickered like flame. Beneath them, his feet were bare and barely bent the stalks of grass upon which he walked. To Thane, it seemed as if he glowed with a fierce, inner light. Gilderien, for it could be no one else, moved with a grace that belied his apparent age. In typical elf-fashion, he walked, unperturbed between the towering dragons, apparently conversing with each of them in turn, though what passed between him and Evaríncel, Thane couldn't hear. However, the white dragon dipped his head, blowing out a long, warm breath as the elf-man passed.

The other dragons responded similarly and Adurngala even stretched out his neck, allowing Gilderien to place a weathered hand on his nose. The old elf's eyes, however, remained fixed on Ralihirn through the entire procedure. The young elf, it seemed, was having a difficult time holding Gilderien's gaze. It was only then that Thane noticed the look of faint discomfort on the young elf's face. It was barely the faintest trace of a crease between the eyes, but for Ralihirn, it may as well have been smoke signals.

Thane was astonished. Ralihirn, like all his race, was a master at concealing his emotions. In the many years Thane had known him, the young elf had only lost his composure on two occasions. The first had been during a training session when Adurngala had careened into a mountainside and snapped his wing. The sight of blood and bone sticking through the fragile membrane had sent Ralihirn into near-hysterics. He had gotten so upset that he had nearly botched the healing spell he was using to repair the dragon's wing. Eragon had finally ordered him away so that he and the elders could mend the damage. The other time had been when, during a particularly bad storm, the riders had been dispatched to help minimize the amount of damage to the valley. As they were leaving Thralmurdras, an elf had commented that Ralihirn and Narilaer should help their own people before trying to help the other races. Thane had chalked it up to youthful ignorance, for the elf had appeared to be very young in the scope of his people. Ralihirn, on the other hand, had only been prevented from confronting his kin by the iron grip of Ethrunor.

The look of concern only increased as the old elf drew closer, finally coming to a halt a mere two feet in front of the Rider. For a few moments, there was silence. The tension was palpable as grey eyes stared into gold. Finally, Ralihirn seemed to will himself into action. Touching two fingers to his lips, he began "Atra esterní ono"

He fell silent as the old man reached out a laid a hand on his shoulder. "It is good to see you, my grandson."

"Grandson?" Bodrin turned, wide-eyed, to stare at his silver-haired companion.

"Kin" Evaríncel murmured in Thane's mind. "It is no wonder, then, that they seemed so similar." It was true. Now that the dragon had said it, and that the shock had set in, Thane could see clear similarities in facial structure between the two elves. The arch of the cheekbones and structure of the nose were nearly identical, as was the slant of their pointed ears. Their heights differed only a little, Ralihirn stood slightly taller than the old man, but it was their bearing that most linked them. It was clear that the confident, steady gait and stance of Ralihirn had been either inherited or mimicked on that of his grandfather.

Ralihirn cast a glance back at his friends before answering in a low, tense voice. "It is good to see you as well Grandfather."

Gilderien smiled and it seemed that the forest grew brighter around them, as if the canopy of the trees had shifted to allow more dappled sunlight to pour through. "I could not be the first to welcome you home, as I had wished, but I could not but come in person to see my only grandson return to Du Weldenvarden."

The old man turned a surprisingly keen gaze toward the others. "And do not think that I will neglect our other guests. We are indeed well met, Dragon Riders. Your names are known to me, and I welcome you gladly to Ellesméra: Bodrin, son of Ken, Ethrunor of the Ulvat Tribe, Thane, son of Fiachre, and Ralihirn of House Miolandra. Enter now with the blessings of Gilderien and may peace be in your hearts." He turned his gaze back to Ralihirn and, for a moment, they spoke mentally. Then the old man turned and strode back into the shadows of the forest. Within moments, he had vanished from sight. As he disappeared, Ralihirn let out an audible breath of relief and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Yet again, Bodrin opened his mouth, quite obviously to ask a question. He was forestalled by a sharp nudge from Ethrunor, who was staring concernedly at the elf's back. It was Adurngala who broke the silence, stepping forward and touching his nose to Ralihirn's shoulder. "We should go. It is unwise to keep the Queen of the Elves waiting."

"Yes," Evaríncel agreed, rolling his shoulders, "Let us go. I am eager to remove this saddle and rest."

Ralihirn hesitated for a few moments longer, then nodded wordlessly and moved off toward the west. The trees from here on in would be too closely packed for the dragons to land, so they would walk the last stretch of land to the capitol of the elves. Thane, however, barely noticed the distance. He was took enthralled by the beauty of the forest that surrounded them. When he and Evaríncel had been newly bonded, they had spent some years here, but he had assumed his memories of the trees had been the fanciful embellishment of a child's mind. Now, he could see that his mind had not deceived him.

The trees were massive. Even the dragons could walk beneath their raised branches without ducking their heads. And their girth, the smallest of their trunks was still over a foot in diameter. As wind rustled the leaves, the branches swayed and creaked in a slow, deliberate dance. Despite the small amount of sunlight that penetrated the canopy, the grass beneath them was lush and thick and dotted with flowers. From somewhere to their right, the gurgling of a stream added its bubbly melody to the breathy song of the forest.

Nearly a mile had passed beneath their feet before Ralihirn broke the silence. "It was a nickname."

"What?" Ethrunor asked, staring down at the elf with his yellow eyes.

Ralihirn was still staring straight ahead, but he answered. "Startracker. It was just a name my family made up for me. I used to like watching the stars, plotting their course across the sky and watching how they shifted with the seasons. My mother began it when I was very young." Thane saw his fists tighten so that the tendons stood out in sharp relief. "Miolandra is the name of the clan which guards the borders to Du Weldenvarden. It inherently implies a dedication to a single race, the race of the elves. The Miolandra clan protects them. I did not want to give anyone a reason to doubt my loyalty to all races so, when I became a Dragon Rider, I decided to drop my clan name in favor of my nickname."

The speech was sudden and rather unexpected, and Ralihirn immediately dropped back into silence, but it confirmed what Thane had already suspected. Of course, he could not have known about the origin of the nickname that Ralihirn used, but he suspected that there was a good reason that his friend had chosen to conceal his clan name. Now that he had heard the explanation, he had to admit is sounded exactly like the young, ever-analyzing elf. His concern with how he was perceived had become clear within days of Thane meeting him. Narilaer had commented that this was not uncommon amongst young elves, though Thane had secretly been appalled to learn that his friend was nearly 50 years old. The older elf had even gone so far as to obliquely tease his younger kin about this self-consciousness.

"He is still very young." Evaríncel observed.

_But he is growing wiser._

"Indeed"

They had just broken the edge of a large clearing when a deep, echoing roar broke over them like a thunderclap. All heads snapped up to see a bright green star drop out of the clouds above them

In spite of himself, Thane couldn't contain the soft "wow" that escaped his lips. Fírnen was the largest dragon he had ever seen. Saphira, huge though she was, was a slender, lightly-built dragon. This green possessed a similar build, but easily outweighed Saphira by about 200 pounds. He glistened like a floating, foliage-covered mountain. The span of his wings was easily double that of Evaríncel's and they blotted out the sky as he slowed his descent. On his back sat the elf-queen. She seemed a miniscule figure compared to the beast on which she rode, but somehow Thane felt she might have been more formidable even than her dragon.

"Unlikely" Evaríncel snorted. "She would be a gnat beneath his claws."

_Don't forget, she did kill a shade. And she was the one who dealt the killing blow to Shruikan. _

"With the help of a single dragon and two dragons respectively."

_That's a bit harsh._

"It's a bit true." The white dragon's tail flicked as he watched his larger kin alight upon the grass. "Still, I admit that the Arya-ebrithil is . . . fierce."

The wind that issued from beneath the huge dragon's wings pressed them down against the ground and the steady, thunderous crack reverberated in Thane's chest. He settled at the opposite side of the clearing, nearly taking up half of the open space with his sizeable bulk. The elf leapt lightly from his back, landing on his foreleg before dropping to the ground. The other dragons and riders moved forward to meet her in the center of the clearing and Thane noticed, with a thrill of surprise, that she had elected not to wear her crown. The four Riders began the traditional elf-greeting, but she waved her hand, stopping them mid-sentence.

"Please, forgive my unexpected arrival. I do not come to greet you as a Queen, but as a fellow Dragon Rider. I wished to meet you outside of our city, where our protocol demands that I speak only as a Monarch. Out here, I may greet you as one of your own."

As she spoke, Fírnen snaked his green head forward to survey them with an emerald eye the size of a dinner plate. "You are welcome to Du Weldenvarden." His voice was deep, deeper than any Thane had ever heard before. "You have grown into strong, young dragons. This is good. For your strength is sorely needed here."

Those words peaked Thane's interest, but it was Bodrin who spoke. "Is there a problem here?"

"Nothing that cannot wait until you have been fed and rested. Everything will be explained to you in the next few days. For now, however, do not worry. Tonight, we will celebrate your return to Alagaësia and welcome you into your new roles as fully recognized Dragon Riders. Do not be timid or uncertain. Eragon has taught you the customs of our people and you all speak our language well. Most of the elves will defer to you as Dragon Riders. If one hesitates, then speak first, but this is unlikely. Also, if you could avoid using magic in the presence of the young riders, that would be best. We have not yet begun to teach this group the Ancient Language, nor are they aware of their abilities. The two elf apprentices have agreed not to divulge this information to the others. If it is unavoidable, then Ralihirn should be the one to cast the spell, for they know that all elves can use magic." She studied them all for a moment longer. Then her expression softened and she smiled. "It is good to see our young apprentices return as Riders in full. You have done well. But we must go now. There are many who eagerly await your arrival."

She turned, darting back to Fírnen and vaulting on to his back. The other riders followed suit, and the dragons kicked off from the ground with renewed vigor. As they fell into formation behind the green dragon, Evaríncel spoke. "Do you think that they will have any elderberry wine at this banquet?"

_I assume so, but does it matter. You're a dragon. You could ask to eat off a solid gold plate and drink from a silver cask and they would likely create them for you on the spot. The elves in Du Weldenvarden love the dragons, even more than those in Vrenbana. _

"Ah, I had forgotten about that." A glow of delight radiated across their mental link. "In that case, perhaps I should ask for Faelnirv instead."


	19. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Keres? Keres wake up! KERES!" She awoke to the sound of her name. For a moment, she was puzzled by the sight of clouds high above her and a thrill of terror shot through her as she realized she couldn't feel Vikonyx anywhere nearby. Then she remembered where she was. She was out on a field training exercise near Crossergate. She had been sent into the mountains with only a single water skin, a blanket, an emergency mirror, and a sword. Her task was simple. Survive for a week using nothing but her wits and her skills. Even Vikonyx had been told to remain at a distance and cease all communications with her Rider. Thus far, Keres had survived four days and was currently sleeping off her latest meal. Communications with the outside world were strictly forbidden during the exercise, which made it all the more strange that someone should be calling her name.

A few seconds later, she realized that it was coming from the blanket she was currently using as a pillow. Tearing back the corners, she bared the small mirror all Riders carried. It was a small, handheld affair with a metal plate that could be snapped over the top of the glass in order to keep it from being broken. She clicked the latch and opened it. Staring up out of the normally reflective surface of the mirror was the face of Maira, one of the elder riders.

As Keres appeared, an expression of extreme relief came over her face. "Keres thank the gods you answered." The words set a cold stone of fear forming in Keres' stomach. Maira was usually full of good humor and very cheerful. The woman she was looking at now was anything but. "Listen, two dragons are attacking Miremal. They're going after the herds. The shepherds tried to drive them off, but it looks like these are young dragons. It's probably not going to work."

_It's definitely not going to work._ Keres thought privately, remembering Vikonyx when the black dragon was younger.

Maira continued, "Eragon, Narilaer, and Rok are all gone, they're out with the new apprentices. I'm the only master here at headquarters. I'm heading there as fast as I can, but I'm going to be too late. I know you're not well supplied, but you're the closest and . . ."

"I understand. I'll take care of it." The fear had hardened into cold certainty. She had seen Eragon and the other masters chase off wild dragons before, but he had always kept her out of the fray, arguing that she and Vikonyx were too young and inexperienced. Secretly, she had always been glad that she never had to come face to face with the fierce beasts. Now, however, there wasn't a choice. The shepherds wouldn't even be close to a match for a single dragon, let alone two. And if they were young, they were likely to be more aggressive and, worse still, more reckless. Letting out a long breath, she nodded, "Don't worry Maira. I can do this."

A strange emotion flashed across the woman's face and, for the first time, she smiled. It was a tense smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I know you can." The mirror went blank.

_Vikonyx_

"I come." Almost instantly, she heard the crash of wings and a dark shape dropped out of the clouds above her. The dragon had barely landed when Keres leapt onto her back. As they had removed the saddle before Keres left Ciráed, the black scales were warm beneath her legs. She clamped her knees to Vikonyx sides as the dragon lifted off, streaking away toward the little village of Miremal.

_I sure hope you paid attention when Saphira taught you how to fight anther dragon._

"So do I."

Quickly, Keres reviewed everything she knew about battling dragons. The wings were the weakest part of the body, easiest to break and easiest to pierce. The underbelly was armored, the underside of the leg joints was only lightly so. Young dragons could breathe fire, but not for long. If she could get them to exhaust themselves, they would be easier to handle. Using magic against a dragon was dangerous, as it might provoke them to unleash their brand of magic in retaliation. _Barzul!_ The problem was that she needed to drive the dragons off without injuring them too badly. As they had no Rider to heal their wounds, even a moderately injured wing might easily prove to be a death sentence. The only thing that was currently working in her favor was that a wild dragon was typically less difficult to cast spells against than a bonded dragon. The latter was likely to have wards against outside interference, while the former would not.

"Do not do anything foolish. Remember, I am armored, you are not." The concern in her partner's voice warmed her heart and she laid a hand on the muscled neck.

_What better armor can I have than a dragon?_ A soft hum greeted her words. _Besides, if my wards fail, it won't matter that I wasn't wearing armor. Fire will cook me both within my armor and without it._

"As always, you are a shining beacon of positivity."

The moment they cleared the mountains, Keres' breath caught in her throat. Ahead of her, the Plains of Miremal were aflame. But such flames, she had never seen their like. Colors intermingled as the bright tongues leapt into the air, bright, golden-red and vivid purple. Despite the smoke that billowed into night sky, Keres could see two shapes repeatedly climbing and diving over the inferno that was the buildings. By the light of the flames, she determined that they were both smaller than Vikonyx, likely only a year or two old. One was brown, the other purple. Speaking quickly, Keres began to mutter in the Ancient Language, casting wards against fire on both herself and Vikonyx. She also did her best to shield the dragon from claws and fangs, but placed especially powerful wards around herself, aware that if she did not do so, Vikonyx would have to worry about protecting her.

"You're not going to stab yourself with my spines again?"

_Your smart comments really aren't helping right now. _

In spite the light-hearted tone of their conversation, or perhaps because of it, Keres could tell that her partner was every bit as nervous about the task before them as she was. And yet, in spite of the nerves, in spite of the tingle of fear that was crawling up her spine, there was another, more prevalent feeling that filled her. Excitement. Her blood thrilled through her veins and her breathing came slightly faster. This was it. This was the chance she had been waiting for. The challenge was fresh and new and the added element of danger only served to heighten her anticipation. No more training, no more mock-battles. This was the real-deal. She and Vikonyx were going to fight, and they were going to win. The thoughts must have spread across her mental link to her dragon, for she felt a shiver run down Vikonyx's sinuous length. They were only a mile outside of the town.

_They haven't spotted us yet._ Keres mused, _We need to make the most of this. See if you can get over the brown one. He looks to be the leader. _

In response, the black dragon climbed into the air, rising above her two opponents. As they neared, she began to glide, slowing her wing beats to preserve the element of surprise. The sudden tightening of muscles was enough to warn Keres and she grasped the neck spine in front of her as her partner folded her night-black wings and plummeted out of the sky, directly over the brown dragon. Wind stung her face as Keres squinted, regretting that she hadn't remembered to cast wards that would shield her face from the stinging currents. Eragon would have been disappointed. They were a mere 50 yards above the brown dragon when Vikonyx loosed a furious roar, snapping out her wings to slow her decent slightly.

Keres saw the brown head turn slightly, and then the black dragon landed on her opponent. The thunderous crash of bodies nearly threw Keres from her seat. The brown dragon screamed, both in fright and in pain. Vikonyx's talons raked across his shoulders as the bore him downward with her. Her thick tail slapped his flanks and hind-legs as she hissed in anger.

"The other one!" The black dragon yelled in Keres' mind.

_I see him. _Keres had already focused in on the purple dragon which was winging his way toward them. Drawing in a deep breath, Keres lifted her right and began to chant. Her spell was simple and concise. This dragon would have no wards against magic, but she had to make sure not to cast too powerful a spell, else she invite a response with magic. She felt the sudden drain of energy and, for a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the dragon wobbled and dropped toward the ground. A single muscle along his chest, one of the ones that aided in flight, had seized up, tightening painfully and restricting movement. Keres held the spell, watching closely to make sure once she released it that the dragon would have time to recover.

Vikonyx lurched beneath her, kicking the smaller dragon away and flapping mightily to gain altitude. The brown dragon roared in fury, barely managing to catch himself before he struck the ground. At almost the same moment, Keres released her spell on the second dragon and he slowed to a halt, hovering in the air. Both pairs of furious eyes fixed on the dragon and rider. A shout from below drew Keres' attention and she glanced down. The fires were now quickly spreading across the fields, burning up the precious land foot by foot. Miniscule figures darted back and forth between the buildings, tossing what appeared to be buckets and casks of water onto the flames. For all the good it did them, they may as well have tried to put out a bonfire with a wet washcloth.

_I need to help them. Can you handle these two?_

"I can try."

Reviewing everything Eragon had taught her, Keres searched for a way to halt the blaze. Putting it out would be nearly impossible, but halting it, that might be easier. _I need water. Taking it out of the clouds would take too much energy. And I can't divert the entire river. It's too far and I'd need to much of it. I need to get water from here. But where? WHERE? _A memory came to her of a story that Eragon had once told her. Speaking quickly, she cast her magic toward the ground as Vikonyx moved forward to engage the two dragons. She spiraled around them, letting out bursts of flame as she repelled attacks from first one, then the other. Finding what she was looking for, Keres quickly took stock of the situation, considering the distance from the ground and trying to discern how much energy she would need. _I might be useless afterwards, but I can't let them burn the fields. We need those! _

With winter approaching, the Plains of Miremal would be some of the best feeding grounds for the herds. It was imperative that as much land as possible be saved. Lifting her hand again, Keres cast the spell. Immediately, she felt energy began to flow out of her as she drew water up from beneath the ground, forming a semi-circle of water that separated the flames from the green grass of the fields. It reflected the flames, a shallow wall of water that seemed pitifully inadequate in the face of the inferno. Keres' head began to throb as Vikonyx inscribed a sharp circle in the air, avoiding an attack by the purple dragon. She was, however, unable to dodge the brown, who locked claws with her and dragged her down toward the ground.

Through their link, Keres could feel her partner's frustration. If she could just fight the two dragons, it would not have been a contest. But she could not injure them too badly, which meant that most of her best fighting moves were off the table. In the scuffle, Vikonyx sustained a gash across her muzzle and a long, bloody claw-mark across her left flank. Just as Keres was certain that the brown dragon would actually ram Vikonyx into the ground, the black dragon wriggled free, pirouetting in the air and bring her tail across his face. The sharp crack echoed through the night and the dragon yelped, tumbling back and slamming into the burning ground.

As Vikonyx began to rise again, Keres felt her limbs begin to tremble. Drawing the water from the ground was easy enough, but actually holding that much water above ground was taxing in the extreme.

"Keres, enough." Vikonyx snapped, watching the brown dragon shake himself and rise slowly back into the air.

_I have to do this. They've got to put the fire out._

"It will do no good if you kill yourself in the attempt. The ground is wet now, it will, at the very least, slow the blaze."

A flash of blinding light seared her eyes as the purple dragon released a jet of flame. It flashed toward them before glancing harmlessly off to either side. Still, the blistering heat of the inferno singed her eyebrows and hair. Sweat poured down her face as she felt yet another surge of energy flow out of her body. The gasps of air she drew in scorched her lungs, causing her to cough and splutter. Unable to speak, she pounded on the black, scaly side. Vikonyx banked left, away from the other dragon, twirling to put her body between her Rider and the enemy dragon. "Enough Keres! End the spell now!"

As her vision began to flicker, Keres acquiesced, releasing the magic. She sagged against Vikonyx's back, clutching at the neck spikes in front of her. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pressed her head into the black scales, closing her eyes as she struggled not to be sick.

"Are you alright?!"

_I'm okay . . . I just . . . need a minute . . . I just . . ._

A rumbling, deep roar cut her off and her head snapped up. A fourth shape was approaching rapidly from the west. _No_ Keres thought in horror_ Not another one!_ Vikonyx had barely turned to face this new threat when the dragon, a glittering, golden mass, streaked past her and collided with the purple youngster. The golden dragon buffeted the smaller creature back, pushing him away from Vikonyx. The black dragon moved forward, firing another jet of flame at the brown, who was making only half-hearted attempts to help his partner. Moments later, both the brown and the purple were in full retreat with Vikonyx and the golden dragon snapping at their tails. At the edge of the mountains, Vikonyx pulled up, gliding slowly down to the ground as the gold dragon continued the chase. With a huff, the black dragoon landed, her neck arched and her muzzle lathered with blood and foam.

Keres quickly slid off her back. As the adrenaline began to fade, the young woman became aware of the dull, pulsing ache that traveled from her calves, all the way up to her abdomen. Her pants had shielded her inner thighs from the sharp bite of the black scales, but the effort of clamping her legs so hard against such a rigid surface was catching up to her. Her muscles burned and her joints felt as if they had been fused together. Groaning slightly, she reached into her boot and tugged free a small dagger. Set into the hilt was a small, black gem.

A glint of amusement crossed Vikonyx's eyes. "Managed to sneak that by Eragon eh?"

Moving to inspect the gash on her parther's flank, Keres responded, _Are you complaining?_

"Not at all."

Drawing upon the power she had stored in the gem, she healed the wound, taking care to reattach the muscles and tendons before closing the gash. Despite her condition, Keres took extra time to make sure that her spells were properly worded and pronounced. A single, misspoken word could have dire consequences for the young dragon, and Keres would not allow her own weakness to injure her partner. She had just begun work on the muzzle wound when the sound of wingbeats crashed above her. Looking up, Keres watched as the golden dragon descended a few yards away.

He was a large dragon, much larger than Vikonyx, but not quite so large as to rival Saphira. His glistening scales were the color of polished gold. Indeed, had he been motionless, it would have been entirely possible to mistake him for an exquisitely carved statue of a dragon. Keres' initial trepidation faded as the dragon landed a respectful distance away. Though most encounters with wild dragons were understandably tense, there were a few, those who had been raised by Saphira and the other bonded dragons, who were on relatively good terms with the Dragon Riders. Keres turned toward him, bowing deeply. "Soluskul, your aid is most appreciated."

The dragon cocked his finely sculpted head. Keres felt a touch on her mind and a deep voice spoke inside her head. "You are welcome White-Eyes, black-scale-sister."

Vikonyx dipped her head slightly, blowing out a hot, blood-scented breath. "You fought well, Sun Scales."

He made the low, coughing sound that Keres had come to recognize as dragon laughter. "Young ones no match. Weak, inexperienced, no threat."

"Did they injure you?" Keres asked, speaking as much with her mind as with her voice. Though Soluskul had learned a small amount of the common language, she was instead speaking in the Ancient Language, as it translated her intentions and emotions, even if the dragon didn't understand each individual word. "I can heal your wounds if you wish. It is small thanks, but all I can do."

He shook his head, "No White-Eyes. Sun Scales is strong. Black-scale-sister is strong too. Is too . . ." he paused, appearing to struggle with the next word, "easy on young ones."

Vikonyx shrugged, "They don't understand. They saw easy food and went for it. That is not a crime."

Soluskul snorted, shaking his majestic head. "We will teach them. Vrenbana is for the Riders." He flared his wings, tilting his head toward the sky. "I go now. Fair winds black-scale-sister, White-Eyes." He launched himself into back into the sky, angling northeast before climbing through the veil of clouds and disappearing from sight.

Keres watched him go, keeping her eyes on the wild dragon until he vanished. _He is a very handsome dragon, is he not?_

Vikonyx grunted. "His color is . . . pleasing . . . and his proportions are well-made. However, his build is too delicate. If we were to fight, I would break him."

_I bet you would._ Keres smiled as she turned her attention back to the cut on her partner's nose. It took only moments to heal the light, flesh-wound. As she completed her work, she swayed, only managing to keep her feet by grasping onto Vikonyx's head. _Now, we need to get back to Miremal. Maira and Halastair will be expecting us there._

The black dragon heaved a tired sigh as Keres struggled onto her back. "Perhaps we could go a bit more slowly this time?"

_Agreed. _The vast, black wings opened as Vikonyx slowly pulled herself back into the air. Rising just above the tops of the nearest trees, she slowly turned in the direction of Miremal, where the iridescent flames had subsided into a thick, black smoke that they both could smell even at this distance. Keres laid her head against the black scales as her dragon moved back across the plain. _You did well, Vikonyx._

"We did well, heart-sister."


	20. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

To call the ceremony a banquet, it turned out, was a gross understatement. Thane rather thought that the word revelry was much more accurate. Elves might not get drunk on wine or alcohol, but the effects of magic and the presence of so many dragons seemed to have the same effect on them. In total, there were 13 dragons in attendance, a number that was unsurpassed since the Fall. The newly bonded apprentices, the newest of whom had only been bonded with his dragon for a month, had been suitable awestruck by their older counterparts. Each of the Dragon/Rider pairs had stepped forward and stated their named before the riders presented their blades. The elves welcomed each of them with glad cries and many songs. All told, it had been the most magical night of Thane's life.

He now sat outside the Dragon Rider's barracks situated at the foot of The Stone of Broken Eggs. The old rock formation was riddled with caves of various sizes, making it ideal for the headquarters of the Riders in Du Weldenvarden. Though the Dragon Riders of old had resided in Ellesméra, Eragon had decided that it was better to keep the newly bonded apprentices out of the elvish capitol. The place had, traditionally, been a place of sorrow for the dragons, however, at the urging of Gladr, they had reclaimed the formation. "If we abandoned every place in which tragedy befell us, there would be no place left to set our feet." He had told Eragon. And so the riders had enlisted the help of the elves to sing several buildings into shape at the base of the formation.

The vast majority of them were oaks, either green or red. It was these giants who had been sung into the row of eight cabins that sat in a cluster around a small, open clearing. Five of the cabins had been set up to house two riders apiece. Only one of these was currently in permanent use. Kakirvog lived in the cabin closet to the rocks, which had been decorated and scaled for his use. The final three cabins were designed for three riders apiece and were designated for use by the new apprentices when they arrived at The Stone.

Thane now sat on the grassy lawn that stretched out across the small clearing, watching Ethrunor spar with Kakirvog, the second rider stationed in Du Weldenvarden. As they were both Kull, Ethrunor had been eager to cross blades with his older kin. This struck Thane as being a particularly bad idea. Kakirvog was a massive specimen of his race. He stood a full foot taller than the younger urgal and his horns, though scarred and chipped, curved nearly two full rotations and ended in sharp points. His sword, Hjarnask, was a giant, two-handed greatsword that dwarfed Jierdum. Despite his bulk, the larger urgal was still more nimble than his opponent and Ethrunor now bore several purpling bruises.

"Are they still at it?" Thane looked up to see Ralihirn appearing from within the cabin they had shared the night before. In contrast to his uncertainty yesterday, the elf seemed to have regained his former confidence. He had spent the morning unpacking. As he was the only one who would be staying here, he had been allowed to pick his own cabin. He had invited Thane to bunk with him for the last few nights. It was one of the only indications that he was an anxious about the impending goodbye as his companions. As Thane nodded, he sat down on the grass next to his friend. "He's a glutton for punishment, isn't he?"

Thane shrugged. "They're urgals, more specifically they're Kull. We can't expect them to see each other and not want to fight, can we?" Ralihirn inclined his head in assent and they lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctured only by the harsh clang of metal on metal and the rather regular thudding sound of Kakirvog's sword striking Ethrunor's flesh. Before long, Bodrin joined them in the morning sunlight, grunting sleepily to both of his companions. The dragons had been gone when Thane had awoken, assumedly to hunt after their long flight. Evaríncel had eventually contacted him to confirm his theory, but thus far, none of the dragons had returned. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Thane amended, glancing to his left.

Around the edge of the clearing, Fírnen lay, basked in the sun. Thane had been surprised to learn that the dragon spent most of his time in Kirtan instead of with his rider in the elf-capitol. In retrospect, it made sense. Politics were nothing to a dragon, and that represented the vast majority of Arya's time. Fírnen preferred to help train the young dragons and thus, he remained near them as much as he could. At present, the young riders were somewhere in the forest performing their morning meditations. The thought made Thane smile. He vividly remembered the hours he had spent in this very forest, struggling to see and feel everything at once.

A final, sharp crack drew his attention as Ethrunor crumpled to the ground. Apparently Kakirvog had head-butted him. One of Ethrunor's horns had sustained a deep scratch from the impact and, even as the younger rider climbed unsteadily to his feet, his eyes were glazed.

"Kakirvog" Fírnen's deep rumble was apparently audible to all of them, for every eye turned to look at the green head that had lifted off the ground. Even laying down, he was taller than any of them. "We have put a significant amount of time into training that rider. It would be preferable if you did not damage him." Amusement was clearly audible in the dragon's voice and the kull chuckled.

"Perhaps you are right. Still, I can never resist the urge to put a youngling in his place. Particularly one of my own race."

The green dragon laughed his strange, coughing laugh, then said, "Kakirvog, go and retrieve the younglings. It is time for their sword practice. As you have been so nicely warmed up, I'm sure you won't have any trouble working with them today. As for the rest of you, please call your dragons. Arya will be joining us shortly."

Kakirvog raised a heavy brow, "Oh, so I get an order and they get a please?" Though the growl that greeted his words was terrible, the expression on his face couldn't have been further from threatening. Chuckling to himself, the massive urgal sheathed his sword and jogged off into the trees, his muscles bunching and flexing as he ran.

Reaching out with his mind, Thane yelled, _Evaríncel!_

"Not so loudly." The response was surprisingly close and Thane looked to the sky to see the white dragon coming into view just over the trees. "I'm right here. There's no need to shout."

_How was I supposed to know that?_

"Well, if your mind was open as Maira and Halastair had taught us"

_No, no you are not starting this._ His partner's amusement was clear as the white dragon landed and jogged easily to him.

Running an appraising eye over the white frame, Thane asked, _How are you?_

The white head lowered and Evaríncel touched his nose to his rider's forehead. "I am better than I was. It will take a few days before I am fully recovered, but a good night's sleep and an easy flight this morning has already worked wonders." He shifted his massive shoulders, settling down on the grass. "You know, I hadn't realized how uncomfortable that saddle had become until you took it off."

_Funny, I was thinking the same thing._

It took only about fifteen minutes for all of the dragons to reconvene. The lawn had taken on the appearance of a treasure room. The mounds of glittering gems which were the five dragons glistened in the sun, throwing fragments of multicolored light in every direction. They chatted idly, asking Fírnen about the situations in Du Weldenvarden. He was surprisingly forthcoming on most topics, but he declined to divulge Arya's stances on most of the situations. He explained the new training regiments they had created for the young riders and the various problems they had encountered during its implementation.

It was then that Arya arrived, running easily out of the trees and slowing to a halt in the open space. Both the riders and dragons greeted her warmly, widening their circle to allow the elf-woman to take a seat in front of her dragon. As always, she looked immaculate in a bright green tunic and a swam-feather half-cape. It was reminiscent of the full cape that her mother usually wore, but was more understated. She accepted a flask of water from Bodrin and took a moment to examine Ethrunor, murmuring several spells as she noticed his dazed condition.

When she had finally settled in, she began. "Yesterday, Fírnen hinted that there was something amiss in Alagaësia. He was, of course correct. I don't think the human have noticed yet, but the elves, dwarves, and urgals have all sensed the change. And of course, the dragons have as well." She added, glancing back at her partner with the barest trace of a smile tugging at her mouth. "There are several places of known magic in the world. The Floating Crystal of Eaom and Mani's Caves are examples of this, as is the materialization of Moratensis from the enchanted fountain. However, they have always remained stable. There are certain places where wild magic is strongest, and they have been constant since even the dwarves first walked the land. This is no longer the case."

She removed a map from within her clothes, spreading it out on the grass between them before continuing. "When last one of my people visited Beirland, they reported that the magic there had weakened. The elves discovered crystal before even the humans arrived in Alagaësia and we have periodically sent scholars out to study its properties. According to our last report, the crystal itself is sitting a full foot lower than it did 150 years ago. Our records also indicate that the overall height of the crystal has decreased nearly three feet."

She slid her finger from where it had hovered over Beirland, to a point deep within the Beor Mountains. "And it isn't just our people reporting these anomalies. A dwarf report from the mountains indicated that the number of premonitions and visions associated with Mani's Caves has skyrocketed in the last few hundred years. Ordinarily, only those who possessed skill with magic have been able to tap into the power of the caves. More recently, however, there have been reports of non-magic users experiencing the effects." She moved her finger yet again, gesturing to the large desert that covered a huge swath of the country's interior. "At the same time, we have been getting reports of wild magic appearing in certain locations within Alagaësia where they have never been seen before. Strange creatures now roam the Hadarac Desert, creature that we have never seen before. And the Spine?" She snorted, shaking her head. "We've gathered several accounts of spells cast within certain parts of the mountains either going awry or completely backfiring. Strange animals have also been reported there, though only in the most remote places. It's as if magic has gone completely haywire." She sighed. "The changes haven't affected the general populace yet, which works in our favor. In fact, the change appears to have been gradual, so we can, hopefully, expect it to continue worsening in degrees, which gives us time to figure out what's going on. Of course, we are talking about wild magic, so making any kind of assumption is really quite a gamble."

She paused, looking around the circle. Thane couldn't believe his ears. Certainly, he had known that things were not perfect in Alagaësia, but this was something completely different. They had been trained to handle numerous situations. They knew how to negotiate peace treaties, how to parley with kings and queen, how to enforce the law with blade and claw, and even how to deal with the magicians that they would undoubtedly meet. But dealing with wild magic . . . that was something they had never been trained to handle. As far as he knew, no one had ever been trained to deal with wild magic.

It was Ralihirn who, as usual, recovered first. "So what, exactly, are you expecting of us?"

"We expect you to be vigilant." Fírnen growled. "We expect you to watch and listen and learn. Above all else, we expect you to protect the people. All of these things, you have been trained for."

The words were simple, direct, and somehow more calming than anything else he could have said. The sense of sudden panic that had flared up within Thane's chest died down just as suddenly.

Arya nodded, "At present, we are doing everything we can to keep the situation monitored. We have two of our scholars permanently stationed in Bierland to keep track of the situation there. The Magician's Guild is also keeping a close eye on the situation there. The dwarves have a similar arrangement set up around Mani's Caves and they have closed off the area to most outsiders. The urgals have set up a watch over the Spine. They're keeping us up-to-date on all goings on there. The desert is, thankfully, relatively uninhabited, but we are watching nonetheless."

"So this," Evaríncel said slowly, "is not something that we can fix. It is only a situation we can monitor."

"Correct." Fírnen lowered his head until a single, green eye hovered directly behind Arya. "We tell you this because you are Dragon Riders and because should the worst come to pass, you will be responsible for doing your part to protect the people of Alagaësia. However, you should not worry overmuch about it. We are doing everything we can."

For a second time, they lapsed into silence. However, the expressions were now more thoughtful than panicked. _It seems that there is a good deal more going on here than we had expected._

"Indeed." This time, Evaríncel spoke only to his partner. "This is strange news, but I can feel the truth of it." He shifted his wings, "Something stirs in my blood . . . As if I was waiting for something."

_Do you know what it is?_

"No. But whatever it is . . . it's coming, whether we are ready or not."


	21. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Concentrate Keres. You're letting your impatience get the better of you."Eragon's disapproving voice echoed in her mind as she staggered, clutching her head. As her master extricated himself from her mind, the searing pain vanished, leaving her panting and shaking. They had been at this for the past three hours, practicing mental defenses. The golden Eldunarí of the dragon Gladr was assisting them, alternately siding with Eragon and Saphira or Keres and Vikonyx. Despite not being her strongest skill, Keres was normally successful in attempting to keep others out of her mind. Today, however, she was failing utterly.

The strength of her exhaustion was overwhelming. After their battle with the dragons, Vikonyx had been given a solid four days to rest. Keres, on the other hand, had been given only half that time. If possible, her work rate had doubled and she now found herself attempting even more complex feats of magic. It seemed that Eragon was determined to find her breaking point and, at this point, she was wondering if he would succeed. Her knees and hands trembled as she knelt, struggling to slow her breathing as her head swam. The steely tang in her mouth warned her that she was mere moments away from losing the food in her stomach. The dull, pounding ache made her eyes water and her vision blur. All three of the dragons seemed to sense her condition. Gladr had been siding with her and Vikonyx more often than not and even Saphira was almost certainly holding back. Keres wasn't sure if she was resentful or grateful for the help.

"Again Keres."

She had barely managed to gather her thoughts before she felt the mental lance of Eragon's mind against her barriers. His mind was unlike any she had ever felt before. His resolve was like steel and the strength of his attack was like a tidal wave crashing down on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the image of a glistening lake. There was a pause and then another burst of pain as he struck her again. She gritted her teeth, unwilling to yield as the pressure on her mind doubled. She could feel Vikonyx trying to shield her as best she could. The dragon was putting forth her full strength, striking back at Eragon and Saphira, attempting to beat them back. Keres could not even muster the energy to aid her. It was all she could do to keep the duo out of her mind. Then her knees buckled. Her defenses wavered as her left knee struck the ground hard. Her eyes snapped open and she struggled to keep from falling flat on her face.

That was all it took. Her barricades shattered as Eragon broke into her mind, driving his consciousness into hers like a blade. She screamed aloud, clutching her head with both hands.

"ERAGON ENOUGH!" The thunderous command brought the session to an immediate stand-still. The pain vanished, leaving her shuddering on the ground. Anger was clear in Gladr's voice as he rumbled like an avalanche. "Can you not see that this is pointless? You are paining her needlessly."

Eragon's response was short and clipped. "Her enemies will not afford her rest when she is in battle."

"This is no battle. This is torture. I will not condone it."

"Ebrithil" Keres murmured, speaking only to Gladr so that Vikonyx, Saphira, and Eragon could not hear her. She felt the dragon's consciousness press against her own. Despite the roiling storm of fury she felt within him, she was most struck by the concern for her well being. Yet again, she was reminded that, to this ancient dragon, she may well have still been a child. But she was not a child. Climbing slowly to her feet, she spoke. "I will be fine. It is alright."

There was a pause before the dragon answered her. "You are young and foolish. Do not be bull-headed. You will only injure yourself." When she did not respond, he sighed. "When we trained Brom, we did not think it possible to discover a rider more stubborn or reckless. Then we trained Eragon and again, we thought we had found the limit. It would seem that, once more, we have been proven incorrect." There was another pause and then he murmured, "Do what you will. But be careful, Keres Hvitr-Aug."

"Eka weohnata ebrithil."

The touch withdrew from her mind and, apparently, from the minds of everyone else in the clearing. Eragon was glaring at the satchel which held the golden orb. Saphira's tale twitched and Keres sensed the unspoken conversation passing between dragon and rider. The blue dragon seemed nearly as agitated as her former mentor. The sapphire tale twitched for a moment and then she snorted, sending a puff of smoke floating into the clear sky. A heartbeat later, Eragon turned his gaze back to Keres. "Again."

"No" She couldn't have explained how it had happened. The resolved had solidified almost instantaneously, borne out of the weeks of exhaustion and confusion and anger. Now it hardened like ice, sharpening her focus as she straightened, staring at her master.

"Keres" Vikonyx's warning hissed in her mind.

"What?" For the first time ever, something like disbelief colored Eragon's voice.

"I will not train anymore. Not until you explain what I have done to deserve this treatment." She turned her gaze to meet him. A cold, calculated rage was flooding through her. "I have done all you've asked. I put every ounce of my heart and soul into completing the tasks you've set before me. And yet, lately, you seem dissatisfied, no matter what I do. I would die for you, if you asked it of me, but I will not break my body and mind attempting to please someone who refuses to accept my offering."

Her white eyes glared into his brown ones. Fury had replaced disbelief on his face. She could see the color rising in his cheeks and the tension in his frame. Ordinarily, these signals would have set her cowering, but not today. Today she held her ground, her chin high and her visage fierce. "You will train. I order you to continue."

"I won't." Keres took a step forward and was startled to see her mentor take a half-step backward, away from her. "Answer me Eragon. What have I done wrong?"

Eragon's mouth flew open, but no words came out. He snapped it shut before making several more failed attempts to speak. The color was growing, a deep shade of scarlet that rose from his throat up through his cheeks. The look on his face was so fearsome that Keres had to struggle to hold his gaze.

"Answer her, Eragon." Saphira's voice startled them both and they turned, nearly in unison, to look at the massive sapphire dragon. She lowered her head toward her rider. "Her feelings are just. Answer her."

There was silence. Eragon stared at Saphira, clearly angered that she would side against him in this. After a couple of seconds, he let out a long breath and turned his head to meet his apprentice's gaze. "You are not like the other Riders. I used to think that it was because of your power. You are born of magic. At all times, it flows through you, in your blood. It strengthens your body and your spells. And your appearance belies this. People look at you and see a human. They underestimate you. And you destroy them." His eyes hardened as his voice rose in volume. "You delight in battle and in victory. You seek out fights even where none exist and you delight in the thrill of the fight. You are a danger and a liability."

It was the last sentence that struck her like a physical blow. She nearly staggered, staring in slack-jawed disbelief at her mentor. She thought she had prepared herself for what he might say. She had assumed that, like so many others, he was leery of her lineage and the training her mother had provided. Only he and Saphira knew the true extent of what she had been taught, and she had ever elected to let him block certain parts of her memory in order to conceal certain spells her mother had taught her. Yet as the implication of his words dawned on her, she couldn't help but feel a crushing sense of disappointment. This was worse than anything she had expected. What he feared wasn't her strength or her skill. What he feared was Keres herself. He feared what she was, what she might become.

She was so lost in her horror that the roar that exploded from behind her was completely unexpected. A Vikonyx fury thundered through her with an intensity that Keres had never felt before. Her partner was the more level-headed of the two, prone to rational thought and calm reasoning. For the first time ever, Keres felt pure, unfiltered rage seething out of the black dragon's mind. The black head snaked past her, thrusting toward the older man as Vikonyx snarled. "How dare you?! How dare you speak ill of my rider? To speak ill of her is to speak ill of me, for I chose her. After waiting for hundreds of years, I chose her. Who are you to question my decision?"

"Vikonyx!" Keres shouted, wrapping her arms around the thick neck in a doomed effort to restrain her dragon. Even so, the white-eyed girl felt a surge of affection for her dragon. She had, however, expected Saphira to intervene on Eragon's behalf. Quite the contrary, the sapphire dragon sat quietly, surveying the scene with clear, hard eyes.

The black dragon continued. "You and Saphira raised us. We were children when first you laid eyes on us and since our arrival here, you have watched every step of our journey. You should know us better than any on the face of this planet. And yet you still doubt our character?"

"I do not doubt your character, Vikonyx." He said coolly, staring into the wide, black eyes. "The rider you chose was strong. However, she is too eager to join in battle and her strength makes this a liability for the Dragon Riders. I have not forgotten the last rider who dreamed of conquest."

This time, Vikonyx did not even have time to be indignant. The sharp slither of steel cut the air as Keres tore her sword from her sheath. "You go too far Eragon Kingkiller." She would have accepted almost any insult from her master. But to be compared to the tyrant king . . . that was a slight too sharp to be borne. It was made even worse by the fear that she harbored within her. She was all too aware that she was only the second rider to sit astride a black dragon. Worse, she saw within Eragon's depiction of the mad king, many of the traits which she prized within herself. Yet she had always considered the comparison to be fanciful on her behalf. For her master to utter such words, to insinuate such a relation . . .

She strode past the black head, past the bared fangs and furious eyes. She moved to within feet of her master, who glared at her with an intensity she wouldn't have believed possible. She ignored the headache and all the pains that shrieked within her beaten body. Letting out a sharp breath, she spoke. "To fight your opponent, you must know your opponent. You taught me that. You must understand them, their motivations, their fears, their thoughts, and, more importantly, their hearts. You must compile everything you know of them to anticipate their actions. And when you finally understand your opponent, you see them clearly." She leveled her sword at his face, glaring down the length of the blade into his startled brown eyes. "Eka sjon ono, Eragon sonr abr Brom. Ach ono sjon eka?"

Hvitr-Aug = White-Eye

Eka weohnata ebrithil = I will master.

Eka sjon ono, Eragon sonr abr Brom. Ach ono sjon eka? = I see you, Eragon son of Brom. Do you see me?


	22. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It turned out that flying over the Hadarac Desert was far more inviting than the Mountains of Vrasston. Thane had heard of the ancient dragons' love for the vast, dry expanse and its powerful updrafts, however, Evaríncel's delight was so great that Thane could not help but smile. The goodbyes they had been forced to say had been more difficult than he had anticipated, but he could not stay gloomy when his dragon was in such high spirits. He spiraled upward on the rising air currents, twisting and rolling through the clear sky. Had he been on the ground, Thane might have though the air stifling and oppressive, but on the back of a dragon the constant breeze and high altitude kept him cool. They had also elected to take a shorter route across the desert rather than attempting to traverse the entirety of the massive tract of land.

Evaríncel had shared some of his ancestral memories of the desert, including several visions of Du Fells Nángoröth, the mountains at the center of the desert where the wild dragons had once gone to store their Eldunarí. The images had been a bit difficult to understand as they had come mostly from the minds of wild dragons, but even Thane could feel the longing with which the memories were shared. At times, they had appeared like a rainbow, with hundreds of dragons in every shade of every color making the pilgrimage to the mountains in the center of the desert.

From the Stone of Broken Eggs they had flown southwest, passing between the towns of Marna and Bullridge. It was only afternoon on the third day when the glistening waters of Leona Lake came into view. Had Thane and Evaríncel not been so used to Lake Miraloft, they would have been impressed by the size of the small, inland sea that was Leona Lake. As it was, the sight was a welcome one, if not an uncommon one. Dras Leona itself was a far cry from the muddy mess that Thane had seen in his studies in Vrenbana. Each apprentice had to learn the history of the religion of the city which Eragon had dismantled during the Rider War. Those lessons had always made Thane's skin crawl as he viewed the memories of the mutilated priests and the monsters they worshiped, the Ra'zac. Thanks to hundreds of years of progress, the beauty that had previously been restricted to the house of the governer and nobles had now spread to the farthest corners of the settlement. The city of was now surrounded by a sturdy brick wall. Though it was still laid out like a maze, the buildings were now made of stone and brick. On the whole, the city presented a rather beautiful visage.

It was overshadowed, however, by the towering spines of rock that lay on the other side of Dras Leona. They had spotted it even before the lack, as a speck of darkness on the horizon. It had grown with each passing minute, rising up to pierce the sky with a black-barbed tip. Helgrind was even worse in person than they could have imagined.

"I would not fly near that even if it were the last dry place on earth." Evaríncel growled. "It's very appearance exudes darkness."

_The Ra'zac have been dead for centuries, and yet I would not go into that fortress unless my need was great. _Thane agreed, shuddering as he saw the shadow that stretched from the base of the rocks across the land like a giant sundial._ It's a shame that Eragon and Saphira could not tear it down._

"Perhaps Belgabad could have done so, if he had been so inclined, but I doubt even Saphira as she is now could do more than scratch that monstrosity."

After the Rider War, several attempts had been made to dismantle the structure. Thus far, no craft of the humans, elves, dwarves, or urgals had been able to so much as crack the stone. Trebuchets, mining blasts, and even spells had each failed to affect Helgrind. It was suspected that there were spells on Helgrind even beyond those that Eragon had removed during his last few months in Alagaësia.

The black structure looked every bit as intimidating as Thane had imagined. The four spires stretched upward as if to pierce the sky, though the fourth stood quite a bit shorter than the other three. During their training, they had learned that the fourth peak was a subject of great contention amongst the Priests of Helgrind, as they were unsure whether or not it was worthy of their adoration. After searching his memories for a moment, he remembered the named he had learned in his sixth year of training. The four peaks, in order of ascending height, were Asterótti, Gudskera, Dyshapp, and Malguildi.

_Still,_ Thane said at length,_ I can see why people believed the priests worshipped it. The aura that it emits is very powerful. Standing in the shadow of that colossus . . . I imagine it would be like being in the presence of a god._

"If you say so. Dragons do not have gods, nor do we entertain the concept of them. A dragon is his or her own god."

_But what about the wind? You know it is stronger than you and, if it decides, it can take you where it wants and you can't stop it. In fact, the weather in general would be to dragons as gods are to humans._

The dragon tilted his head, glancing back at his rider. "The wind may be stronger, but we do not pray to it, nor do we believe that it rules our lives. However, I get your meaning. I do not like that rock formation, but I respect it as I would a storm." Thane felt a shiver run through the body below him. "I feel just like I did when I was small and flying over the swamps in Vrenbana: as if something was going to reached out of nowhere and grab me."

Laughing, Thane began. _Do you think that_

He was cut off by a roar that echoed over the plains. A nearby cloud bank was torn to shreds as a large form flew out of it, wings scattering the white fluff. The sun glittered off a brilliant turquoise hide as the dragon banked toward them. Filling his lungs, Thane shouted, "Tourmal! Gareth!"

In response, the rider brandished his sword and the dragon loosed another booming roar. He and Evaríncel began to circle each other, though the white dragon flew slightly lower than his older counterpart.

"Thane!" Gareth Stevenson called, "It's good to see you again! Tarehlak sent me to escort you. The fort isn't hidden, but it's not exactly easy to find." Tourmal performed an intricate flip, tumbling through the air for a few moments before righting himself as Gareth laughed. "Come on!" He turquoise dragon took off toward the southwest, angling out over the lake. As they went, Tourmal continued his antics, twisting himself into elaborate shapes and performing complex acrobatics.

"He is challenging me. Shall I accept?"

_Would my answer really make a difference?_

A rumble of laughter echoed through the dragon's chest. "Probably not." This time, as Tourmal performed a tight turn, twirling in mid-air, Evaríncel did the same. Thane's stomach tightened and he gripped the saddle until his knuckles turned white. While he did enjoy flying, these aerial maneuvers always set his stomach roiling. He had known some riders to thoroughly enjoy the experience of what the dragons called "dancing," but he had never really been able to understand the fascination. There was nothing enjoyable about feeling as though he was going to be catapulted out of the saddle. Still, he wasn't going to let Tourmal show his dragon up. Mercifully, since he could see the turquoise dragon performing the actions ahead of him, he could anticipate Evaríncel's motions, managing to lean and with the dragon instead of being caught off guard.

The maneuvers became increasingly difficult. The initial tricks were simple, barrel rolls and swift ascents and descents. As time wore on, however, they gradually grew more and more difficult to perform. Tourmal, Thane realized, was an excellent flyer. The dragons had often held competitions in Vrenbana to determine who was the best at various events such as flying and fire-breathing. Gareth and Tourmal had already been stationed at Sunvarda when Thane and Evaríncel arrived in Vrenbana, so they had never been able to see the dragon fly, but Thane had been able to watch a few of these contests. From what he had seen, Tourmal was clearly one of the best.

"I have only seen Saphira bested once in a flying competition, but I daresay that Tourmal could give her a run for her money. He's faster, if not as good at acrobatics."

_Saphira lost a flying contest?_ Thane was shocked. The blue dragon was widely considered to be the best flyer in the Dragon Riders and she was not shy about making this fact known.

There were a few moments of silence as Evaríncel made a hard, right turn, nearly balancing on the tip of one wing. Then he responded. "Yes. She was horribly upset by the whole affair, so we made an effort to keep it quiet." The sarcasm was evident in the dragon's voice and Thane could feel the amusement.

Thane swallowed, drawing a deep breath as his stomach caught back up with his body. When the sensation had faded, he asked, _Who did she lose to?_

"That little black dragon, Vikonyx."

_Keres' dragon?_ Thane had rarely spoken to the white-haired woman, and never had the chance to speak to her dragon. Still, the pair was familiar to him, as they had trained together on a few occasions.

"Indeed. She doesn't compete much, but bettered Saphira that day. If ever a dragon was born for the air, it was her. Some of the stunts she pulled . . ." He trailed off as the dragons lunged upward in a sharp decent, flying nearly straight up into the air. Clouds parted as their triangular heads lanced through the layers of moisture. Thane clutched the handle before him as the wind tried to tear him from the saddle. His breathing became labored as the air grew thinner. Cold began to seep into his now-wet clothes and his fingers grew numb. "Hang on!" Evaríncel's warning came just in time. The white wings folded, and he dropped out of the sky, spinning in he dove. The ground swirled beneath them, a crazy vortex of blue and brown and green. Occasionally, Thane caught a glimpse of the turquoise blur that was Gareth and Tourmal, though he couldn't have said where they were in relation to the white dragon.

Then, as his stomach heaved, he closed his eyes, pressing his face into the crook of his elbow. It felt as though they were falling forever. It was impossible that they had not hit the ground yet. Surely they were about to crash into it. Thane expected the life-stopping jolt at any moment, but it didn't come. Instead, he felt the body beneath him flex and knew, without looking, that Evaríncel's huge, veined wings had snapped open. They jerked, falling what felt like several hundred feet before their forward motion overcame their fall. But it wasn't until a splash of water hit Thane's leg that he dared to look up. They now skimmed a mere five feet over the water. The white dragon's front claws were extended, brushing the surface of the water. It was these that had kicked up the spray.

"If you're going to be sick, please do so over the side. Otherwise I will expect you to clean my scales."

_Your concern is much appreciated_. Thane growled.

A loud, boisterous laugh drew his attention and Thane looked over to where Tourmal glided beside them. From his back, Gareth yelled, "That was well flown Evaríncel. It's not often that he has to work that hard."

Thane nodded his thanks, not trusting himself to open his mouth just yet. _You were talking about Vikonyx?_

"Ah yes. Well Saphira had already bested each of the other dragons by the time Vikonyx arrived. As I said, Vikonyx doesn't usually like to compete. We were all pretty surprised she showed up. But Saphira challenged her and Vikonyx accepted. The way those two flew was astonishing. The tricks weren't particularly hard in themselves, but the way they performed them . . . I've never seen anyone make turns tighter than that."

_Sounds like someone's in love._ Than teased.

Evaríncel laughed. "I can appreciate good flying."

_Sure, that's it. Just like I appreciate good running or jumping._

"Oy, you two!" Gareth's voice echoed across the water again and Thane looked over to see Gareth pointing out across the water. "That's where the fort is."

Thane followed the man's outstretched arm. The small smudges they had seen on the horizon had grown into looming mountains. They were not nearly the size of the Beors and paled even more in comparison to the Ealdin Mountains. Still, he was well aware that this mountain range had a bigger reputation than either of the others. The Spine was where Eragon had first found Saphira's egg, and earlier, where Galbatorix had lost nearly half of his army to Urgals. Where Gareth was pointing, the mountains formed a Y shape, creating a small valley set back into the range. As they drew closer, Thane was able to pick out the irregular shape of the tower on the slope of the mountain. He could also make out the dark circles that marked the caves where the dragons resided.

_Sunvarda, it's a bit less grand than I'd expected. _

"Well, we're only the fourth dragon and rider to be stationed here. No need for an elaborate setup. All it needs to do is keep us out of the rain and keep most people away. Besides, don't you humans find cabins in the mountains to be quaint?"

Thane chuckled. _Well, I guess you've got me there. Still, I'd expected . . . well, I'd expected more than this. More than one tower and some caves. Oh, and some farmland. I'm assuming that'd ours as well. _He added, spotting the rows of neatly manicured plants that sat on the lawn.

As if in response, Gareth called, "We try to grow as much produce as we can. It reduces expenses and, in good years, gives us something to sell. We all help to grow and harvest it since there are only eight of us, not counting the dragons."

Dragon Riders didn't collect taxes from the kingdoms they patrolled. The elves, dwarves, humans, and urgals were obligated to help the Riders when they asked for it, and were required to provide food, armor, and weapons if the Riders needed them. For the most part, however, the Riders were financed by the trade that they conducted with other countries. Vrenbana exported large amounts of crafted goods such as cloths, sculptures, and jewelry as well as produce.

Still, something in his words didn't make sense to Thane. "Eight? I thought there were only three riders in Sunvarda, four now that I'm here."

"Well, there are only four riders. But we have a family that lives here and helps out with chores around the place. Since we're often out on missions, we don't always have time to upkeep the fort. A man named Aldeen lives on the property with his family. He and his two sons, Geoff and Kale, work the fields. His wife, Shaira, serves as a housemaid along with her daughter Violet. Aldeen lost his land during the drought we had a few years back, just couldn't afford to keep it. He had always been good to us, giving us first pick of his crops and helping us out when he could. So, we offered him a spot here. He's just there, working the corn." Sure enough, Thane saw the small figure of a man straighten from amongst the green stalks.

"So," Thane called, "we really only have seven people to work all that land?"

Gareth laughed again. "This is Sunvarda kid. Best get ready for more menial labor than you can shake a stick at." After a moment, he added, "Oh, and just so you know, Nortavog is cooking tonight, so you might want to find a snack early."


	23. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Eragon's face went slack. His eyes registered nothing beyond utter shock at her words. Even the light breeze seemed to have fallen silent and the bird had ceased their incessant chirping. It felt as though the world was waiting for an answer with bated breath. When her master didn't respond, Keres spoke again. "Take up your sword Eragon. If you cannot see me now, cross blades with me until you can. I do not fear your gaze. There is nothing that you can see in me that I have not examined a million times."

Again, the clearing elapsed into silence. Then came the slither of metal on metal and Brisingr blazed in the dappled sunlight as he leveled it at her face. "Very well Keres. If you are so eager for battle, I shall indulge you." For one tense moment, Keres wondered if he might strike at her right then and there. Then he lowered the sapphire blade and lifted a finger to it, muttering the spell that would guard its edge. Letting out an inaudible sigh of relief, Keres mimicked the gesture, running her fingers along the edges of her blade. The black spark that jumped between them created a slick barrier around the weapon. She tested it at all points, checking for any weak spots, but found none.

"Keres, are you sure?" Vikonyx' voice was full of concern. Keres smiled. Despite the utter exhaustion her partner had to have been feeling, the black dragon always tried to protect her.

_I am sure, sister of my heart?_

"But why? Why must you fight him?"

_Because his fears are also my own. I know what I was made for. I know what I was made to do. And I have always feared that how I was made would be stronger than I what I chose to be. _

"So . . ." The dragon said slowly, "for you, fighting him is like fighting your own fears."

_It's like you're inside my head_.

"And yet again you make fun. Not everything is a joke Keres." Vikonyx sounded exasperated. "This is serious. How can you laugh at something like this?"

_Because I have to._ The black dragon grew perfectly still, her dark eyes locked on her rider. _The alternative is realizing that the man who raised me believes I'm a monster._

Vikonyx sighed, reaching out her neck to bump Keres with her nose. "Be careful." Keres touched the armored nose and nodded, staring into the dark eyes. Turning, she found Eragon waiting for her, his blade pointing downward at his side. She stepped toward him, drawing a few breaths as she mentally prepared herself.

"Wait" This time the voice was did not belong to Vikonyx. Saphira must have spoken to all of them, for all six eyes turned in her direction. She had not moved during the entire argument with Eragon, but she now strode toward Keres. The young woman had never feared the blue dragon. She remembered, as a child, brazenly standing before the massive creature and telling her that Vikonyx was clearly the prettier dragon. For the first time ever, she felt a tinge of apprehension as Saphira loomed over her, a head the size of Keres' whole body lowering to stare into the white eyes. Huge claws sank into the turf and each step shook the ground like a small earthquake. Keres heard Vikonyx' hiss of unease as the sapphire dragon pushed her spiny head toward the young rider. A single, blue eye glanced in her direction and, though Keres didn't hear what passed between them, she saw Vikonyx relax. Once again, the soothing voice of the larger dragon echoed within Keres' mind. "Keres, I need you to help my rider."

Keres blinked. It was unlike Saphira to ask for help in anything. She was a proud and vain, even by dragon standards. However, the urgency in her voice was unmistakable. For the first time ever, she sounded as if she were in distress. The blue eye that was fixed on Keres was unwavering. "Fear is a poison. It robs you of your sense and twists the way in which you view the world. Right now, Eragon is a prisoner to his fear, and my words do not reach him. There is a shadow in his heart that he cannot rid himself of. You must show him the folly of his fear."

_Then, you think he's wrong?_

Saphira snorted, sending a puff of smoke into the air. "You are wild and bull-headed and impatient and arrogant and unable to turn a blind eye on perceived injustices. In short, you every bit your master's apprentice. These impulses simply manifest themselves differently in you."

"Thank . . . you?"

The dragon blinked, creating a sharp, clicking sound. "Eragon and I have faced real monsters, true monsters, both human and otherwise. You are nothing like them." Her gaze softened. "He knows what you are, Keres. He only needs to be reminded of it."

For a few moments more, Keres stood in stunned silence. Finally finding her tongue, she bowed her head. "Eka weohnata sjá älfr il eka kei."

"I know you will youngling." Saphira's blue eyes darkened for a moment, then cleared. "Hold out your hand Keres." With a glance back at Vikonyx, Keres extended her right hand, the hand that bore the Gedwey Ignasia. Saphira's gigantic maw opened, revealing rows and rows of ivory teeth. Keres instinctively wrinkled her nose. She had spent enough time helping clean Vikonyx teeth to know what smell to expect when a dragon opened her mouth. However, the hot breath that washed over her did not stink of bloody meat. It smelled like fire, smoky and warm. The breath was nearly scorching in its intensity. It burned her cheeks and sucked the air from her lungs. The silver mark on her palm tingled and tendrils of fiery energy burned through her veins. She drew in a sharp breath. The sensation was similar to standing in a single beam of sunlight, her skin warmed and the sense of heady energy that filled her stilled the trembling in her limbs and the pounding in her head.

Then Saphira's mouth closed, leaving Keres breathless and wide-eyed. The blue dragon snorted. "This is the most I can do for you. It would not be right for you to fight him at your worst when he is at his best."

"Saphira" Eragon's voice was soft and the blue head turned in his direction momentarily before the dragon retreated to a spot near the treeline. Vikonyx backed away, clearing a large area of space in which Keres stood, her sword pointing downward at her side. Ahead of her stood Eragon, Brisingr glistening like a jewel in the early afternoon sun. He dropped into a fighting crouch. "Come Keres, and we shall see what is in your heart."

He had barely finished where Keres muttered a quick spell under her breath and launched herself at him. The spell lent speed and strength to her steps, allowing her to cross the distance between them like a shadow. The clang of metal striking metal was loud and ringing as he blocked her blow. He skidded backward several inches, their faces nearly nose to nose as their blades momentarily locked together. Then he pushed her back and she twirled away. They danced around each other, striking and parrying and slashing and blocking in turn. In spite of herself, Keres could not stop a grin from spreading across her face. She had always suspected that her master held back in their previous duels. She had sensed that he could have easily defeated her, yet chose not to. It had always angered her that he felt she wasn't ready to face his best efforts. But here, she knew that he was giving everything he had. His movements were blurs, his blade a hammer that strove to smash her defenses. And yet he could not best her so easily.

Her heart soared and her feet felt as if they had grown wings. Though his strength outmatched her own, she was a step faster. She had long since learned that matching Eragon Shadeslayer blow for blow was nearly impossible. So instead, she had trained to make herself faster. A battle was often won by he who struck first. No matter how strong the enemy, his strength was useless if her first blow was a killing blow. And that was what she was attempting to land. She changed her style, bouncing back and forth between several of the fighting techniques he had taught her. From the more fluid style of the elves to the sharp, choppy style native to Alagaësia to the slashing style of the desert nomads of Surda.

The way of the blade had been one of her favorite parts of training. Eragon had been a more than apt instructor and had delighted in showing her the various styles he had learned during his long years. Some were still beyond her in regards to her limited flexibility and impatience, but many she had been able to pick up quickly. Now, over 10 years later, every moment she had spent training came back to her. She hacked and slashed at him with every ounce of strength she could muster, fighting to stay clear of his blade as he struck back. But she held the bulk her magic in store. She had no illusions about fighting him. He could best her quickly if she allowed him to go on the offensive. But if she held him off for long enough, there was a chance she might outlast him.

They closed, standing nearly toe to toe as they exchanged blows. Here, at such close quarters, the similarities in their style became evident. Eragon had trained her since she had first held a sword and she had watched him fight in nearly every battle since. But they each favored a method of fighting that played to their strengths. However, though the accents of their styles were different, the basic motions, were identical. Years of practice had drilled a series of carefully planned strokes into either of their heads. _Clang. Clang. Clang. _Side cut. Backhand. Feint. Glide. Thrust. Her blade skittered off his as he pushed it aside, nearly landing a vicious horizontal strike across her abdomen. Eragon, having the advantage of strength, was able to easily block her attacks, whereas she was forced to parry his in order to conserve her strength.

Blocking her latest attack, a thrust aimed at his shoulder, he performed a complex riposte and landed a blow that Keres thought might have separated her left shoulder. The muscles along her arm went numb as she cried out in pain. Luckily, she had taken after her master in requesting a hand-and-a-half sword. Letting her left arm dangle by her side, she danced backward, shifting to a one-handed grip on the pommel. He sent a thrust streaking toward her chest and she parried, knocking the blade downward and planting her left foot firmly on the blue sword. She twisted, bringing up her knee in an effort to drive it into the side of his face. He yanked Brisingr free and followed up with a pommel strike that very nearly made contact.

She leapt over a cut aimed at her calf, vaulting over his head and stabbing toward his right shoulder. He parried the blow behind his head, whirling and barely missing her torso as she twisted out of the way. She landed, rolling over her left shoulder and slashing at his ankles. He leapt backward, dodging the blow that missed his flesh by inches. As he landed, she felt a sudden drain of energy as her wards protected her from his spell. Gathering herself, she fired back with a spell of her own, turning the ground before him to mud as he sprinted in her direction. As she sidestepped the massive arc of Brisingr's blade, she caught a glimpse of the expression on her master's face.

His cheeks were drawn. Tension was clear in every line of his face, and his lips formed a hard, rigid line. He skidded in the mud as his blow swiped through empty air. Seizing the opportunity, Keres lunged. Her blade flashed forward in a blur of silver. He blocked, momentarily obscuring his gaze with his own arm. Striking out with her foot, she kicked him squarely in the center of his chest, flinging him backward. He staggered, barely managing to catch himself before he landed squarely on his butt. The look that he gave her was mingled surprise and fury. Twirling her blade, she chanced a small jibe. "Done underestimating me master?"

He lowered his head for a moment and his brown hair fell into his face, obscuring it momentarily. The she saw his shoulders begin to shake and a ringing laugh echoed over the clearing. When the head lifted again, Keres saw the first real grin in weeks. "Good thing you're not cocky."

Keres bared her teeth in a feral smile, her lip curling slightly as she began to circle him. "Again Eragon."

His eyebrows rose and he dropped back into his battle stance. "As you wish." He made a flying leap toward her, shifting his weight in mid-air to strike at her head with his pommel. Swaying sideways, Keres dodged the blow, launched an attack of her own at his exposed thigh. Her blade was barely half-way through its swing when she caught a glimpse of blue streaking toward her back. Twirling in place, she redirected her attack, changing it to a parrying blow. The strike that followed jarred her arm from the wrist all the way to her shoulder. Her smile faded into a snarl of pain as she quickly retreated, trying to put as much space between her and Eragon as she could.

She needed to drag this out longer. There had to be a way to tilt this battle in her favor. Her mind raced. What advantages did she have? _Speed, endurance, and size._ She was faster and smaller, meaning that she was more difficult to hit. And she had trained her body to continue working long after the other trainees had been exhausted. Though Eragon had often told her this was more a product of her stubbornness than any inherent athletic ability. _Jerk._ But that could help her. Now, how could she use speed and size? She couldn't here, she realized suddenly. This open clearing shifted the battle in his favor by slightly negating her advantage in speed. She needed to shift the battle to a terrain that favored her but where? Her eyes flickered to the forest that surrounded them. The trees here were closely packed with barely any sunlight able to penetrate the thick canopy of branches. As such, it was very dark beneath their shade. A thrill of delight shot through her as she quickly formulated her plan.

She darted past Eragon, heading for a patch of dry soil. Reaching it, she stretched her still numb left hand down and flinging a handful of dust into his face. He growled, shaking his head and cursing as he struggled to clear his eyes. Pausing for a moment to wink at Vikonyx, Keres sprinted into the shade of the trees, ducking behind a trunk and peering through the foliage to where Eragon was slowly regaining his vision. Muttering a spell under her breath, she projected her voice out through the trees so that it echoed from every direction. "The element of surprise is one of the most advantageous, both in hand to hand combat and warfare." She grinned, watching his shoulders stiffen. "What do you think Eragon, have I surprised you?" Even from this distance, she could see the smile widen on his face as he twirled Brisingr. For a few moments, he stared around, trying to pinpoint her location. She chuckled, the sound echoed through the dark forest, "Come find me Eragon."

Eka weohnata sjá älfr il eka kei. – I will help him if I can.


	24. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

By nightfall, the other two Dragon Riders stationed at Sunvarda had returned from patrols. Typically, it was uncommon for all three dragons and riders to be on location at once, however, the arrival of a new pair was enough to bring everyone together for the night. Tarehlak had arrived first astride Gintare. The pair had been out patrolling the area between Tierm and Kuasta and so arrived from the north a few hours before sunset. The amber dragon was the fourth oldest in the world behind Saphira, Thorn, and Fírnen. Her size, however, was somewhat less impressive than Thane would have expected. She was a rather slender dragon and lacked the heavy proportions he had come to expect of older dragons.

Her rider was equally surprising. After meeting both Eragon and Ayra, Thane had expected a calm, sagely sort of man. Tarehlak was anything but. He was loud and brash, openly critiquing both Thane and Evaríncel within moments of meeting them. Thane had immediately noticed the wine skin attached to his belt and was appalled to see the small man taking copious swigs from it on numerous occasions. In spite of this, his actions never seemed slow or impaired. Though he did have a small belly, which Gareth explained was attributed to his drinking habits, the dwarf's shoulders were thick with muscle. The ease with which the four-foot man lifted the heavy saddlebags from Gintare's back told Thane that the dwarf's bulk was not completely attributed to fat. Together, they made a good pair, the boisterous Tarehlak and the calm, quiet Gintare.

The sun had already touched the horizon when the third pair finally returned to Sunvarda. The bloody light of the setting sun touched the scales of the dragon to flame as she and her rider swept in from the South. They had been gone nearly a week, scouting down near the border of Surda. As the pair approached, Thane's breath caught in his throat and Evaríncel let out a soft hiss of amazement. They had heard the tales of Stenfeon, the pink dragon. Even Saphira had spoken of the beauty of the graceful, proud female. Now Thane could see that those stories had not been exaggerated. The pink dragon seemed . . . delicate, there was no other word for it. He felt that someone might have carved up the dwarves Isidar Mithrim and created a dragon of gemstone. Her scales shimmered like colored glass as Stenfeon landed, folding iridescent wings and turning her head in the direction of the new arrivals.

Then her rider dismounted. In all his life, Thane had only ever seen one female urgal, and that had been a very young apprentice in Vrenbana. This was the first time he had ever come face to face with a full-grown female. Their proportions were much more graceful than their male counterparts. Though they were well muscled and clearly powerful, they were lithe. Nortavog's horns were well-oiled and she had obviously spent a lot of time on them. She also had long, dark hair that fell nearly to her waist. All in all, despite her substantial size, her appearance was not nearly as jarring as the appearance of a male urgal.

She turned to him and Thane was startled to see a pair of mustard-yellow eyes staring back at him. Urgal eyes were usually a dull, muddy yellow. This was like staring into the eyes of a wolf. Realizing that he was staring, he lifted his head, baring his throat in the urgal gesture of respect. "My apologies, Nortavog-elda. I did not mean to stare."

She lifted her head in response. "Do not worry, Thane-Finiarel. I take no offense. Females of my kind are not often seen outside of our territory. Your curiosity is understandable."

Deciding that a bit of flattery might be helpful, Thane responded, "Still, I cry your pardon. I was mesmerized."

Nortavog laughed, a surprisingly soft sound for such a large creature. "A child with a silver-tongue, how delightful." She extended a hand for him to shake. "You are most welcome here. As are you, Moon-Wing." She added, turning to Evaríncel. "When I heard that a white dragon, one of the few white dragons, had hatched, I admit I was quite curious. Though I have seen the images of great Bid'Daum and mighty Umaroth, I never hoped to see a white dragon in person."

Lowering his head, Evaríncel touched his nose to the urgal's hand. "We are well met indeed, Nortavog. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

By now, Thane had turned his attention to the pink dragon. She was currently surveying him with bright, if cautious eyes. Though her build was slight, she was still a large creature and her scales gleamed with good-health. Noticing his gaze, Nortavog waved a huge hand. "Do not bother telling her that she is beautiful. It would only make her head bigger, and I do not need that." Her words were met by a sharp growl from the dragon, though Thane thought he heard more good-humor than anger. The urgal continued, "Stenfeon is shy around strangers. Do not expect her to speak with you for a while. She will warm up eventually."

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Stenfeon-elda." Thane said, inclining his head respectfully. After studying him for a long moment, the dragon returned the gesture, dipping her finely-carved head in welcome.

Thane had been surprised to discover that a small party was to be held in honor of his and Evaríncel's arrival. Shaira, who served as a combination of housekeeper and cook, had spent all day in front of the stove cooking large portions of wild pig and waterfowl as well as several different types of vegetables. Tarehlak and Gintare provided three medium-size kegs of beer and three equally-sized casks of wine. For their part, Nortavog and Stenfeon had caught three deer, one for each dragon. The riders had, of course, insisted that Shaira and her husband take a portion of the food home to their children as they had declined to attend the festivities. Thane had met the family during his first hour in Sunvarda, and was surprised to see how eagerly the family served the Dragon Riders. They worked both cleaning the tower and upkeeping the grounds in exchange for a small cabin at near the edge of the lake and a portion of all food grown on the property.

Sunvarda was more impressive than it had looked from the air. Though the tower was small, it was securely grounded in the rock of the mountain. A spiral staircase extended from the lowest level, the common area, to the caves where the dragons slept. This was what Thane had been most apprehensive of. He had rarely slept away from Evaríncel in all their time together. The dragon had always been small enough to stay within his room. Here, however, it would have been impossible to build the tower to accommodate a dragon. Luckily, he had seen that there were sleeping accommodations for the riders down in the caves in addition to the rooms situated up in the tower. Sunvarda was made to accommodate six riders, so, with the addition of Thane, the barracks were now half full.

From his room near the top of the tower, Thane could see why the riders had chosen this position. The distant lights of both Bellatona and Dras-Leona were clearly visible in the distance, as was the very tip Helgrind. Leona Lake was a pit of blackness amidst the shadowy landscape of waving grasses. _It's very reminiscent of Cieráed, isn't it?_

"Yes, but much more secluded. The Fire Mountain was not made for defense, as this place is."

_Come now, Cieráed was made to be full of dragons. What better defense can there be?_

Evaríncel chuckled. "I suppose you have a point. Still, I imagine this place is rather forbidding to those who are not riders. Did you feel all the spells as we flew in?"

_Yes, I did. It was strange, almost like_

He broke off as another consciousness broke into his mind. "I will accompany you to the festivities tonight." The abrupt interruption startled him, and Thane almost retaliated before he recognized Yismora's voice. The blue dragon had been silent since they had entered Alagaësia.

Thane blinked, "I thought Eldunarí couldn't see or hear."

"Well your mind is rather empty so there's plenty of room for me to sit and observe." The response, though clearly intended to be humorous, caught Thane off guard. Conversely, Evaríncel's roar of laughter was audible through the open window. "My apologies youngling." The blue dragon continued, "I could not help myself. There is always a feast when a rider arrives at their new station. Besides, I met Nortavog and Stenfeon during their training. Tarehlak, I have never had the honor of meeting, but I'm told that it is . . . an experience."

"That, I think, is the most accurate way of putting it." The white dragon commented.

"Also, you would do well not to try and match them drink for drink." Yismora added. "There will be a brief afterwards that you will be expected to remember. More importantly, I've only ever seen three humans that could match a dwarf drink for drink."

"What about an urgal?" Evaríncel inquired.

"Unfortunately, we did not interact with the urgals in my time beyond finding and killing them. From what little I have seen of their drinking powers, they may be even more proficient than the dwarves. Based on their size alone, they should be able to stomach much more than any other creature, save a dragon." The last part was added with no small measure of amusement. To this day, the dwarves sang a drinking song about a blue dragon who got drunk, tried to dance, and fell over, smashing several tables and, if the story was to be believed, snoring fire. Though Saphira was never mentioned by name, the story was suspiciously similar to one that Eragon had told them once about his time in the dwarven kingdom.

A pounding on the door drew his attention and Thane hastily tossed the remnants of his saddlebags into a chest at the foot of his bed. Tarehlak shoved open the door, "You finished yet? That she-devil won't let me open the wine until you get down there."

"I'm coming." Thane promised, pulling out the satchel that held Yismora's blue Eldunarí. The dwarf nodded and stomped back down the stairs.

"Well, he does seem like quite a character." Yismora commented.

The next few hours passed in a blur of foot and drink. Shaira, it turned out, was a phenomenal cook. The dish was rustic, but the flavors were so succulent that Thane thought it could have easily competed with what he had eaten back in Vrenbana. The meat was hot and tender, the vegetables cool and crisp, and the wine was of very good quality. Nortavog had been delighted to discover that Yismora had made the journey to Sunvarda. More surprising, even Tarehlak had managed to keep a cordial tongue when conversing with the blue dragon. The moon was nearly halfway through the night sky when Nortavog set down her goblet and turned to look at the young, human rider.

"I trust that you are still sober enough for a talk? Unlike my friend here." The last part was spoken with a tongue of mixed disgust and amusement.

Tarehlak, who was swaying back and forth on his stool, hiccupped once. "Ah shut it Norta. There's no needa . . ." The sentence was cut off by a strange looking, but very sharp dagger that appeared beneath this chin, it's point buried in his beard.

Nortavog hadn't shifted her gaze, but in a calm, pleasant voice, she spoke. "I believe I have asked you not to call me that."

"Course you have." Tarehlak nearly fell as he hurriedly put a few extra feet between himself and the imposing female. "Sorry Nortavog. Got carried away is all."

Replacing the dagger into its sheath, Nortavog shook her head, causing her hair to ripple and shine. "Well Silver-Tongue?" Slightly surprised with his new nickname, Thane nodded and she continued. "It is tradition to give the first brief to a new rider after a feast. We find it tends to take the edge off the nerves." With a swipe of her hand, she quickly cleared off a section of the table and unrolled a decent sized map. "We have divided Alagaësia into three sections. Each of the three Rider Stations patrols one of these sections. The Farthen Dur riders patrol the smallest section of land, but they also have to navigate the mountain ranges, so individual tips may often take longer than expected as they cannot fly directly from place to place. The riders of Du Weldenvarden have the largest area to patrol. However, the elves are a mostly peaceful people, and do not require as much assistance as the other races. Our section boasts the most cities of the three, and the largest range of races." She tapped the small castle symbol that marked Sunvarda on the map. "We are located here so that we can reach each of our cities within a reasonable amount of time. Aroughs marks the southernmost city in our territory. Combined with Dauth, Cithri, and Furnost, it marks the southern edge of our territory. Bullridge is our easternmost city, meaning that we also have stewardship of Uru'baen."

As she spoke, she indicated each of the cities on the map, drawing a kind of arch that encompassed a huge tract of land. "Our northern border begins at Bullridge and runs, almost perfectly straight, to Narda. Between them is Úmerstenn, an urgal village that sits almost directly between them." She completed the arch, once again touching the coastline of the country. "Anything that falls west of that line is under our jurisdiction. That includes Bierland Island and all of its neighbors as well."

Thane let out a low whistle, "That's a lot of cities to police." He noted that this particular map had several different symbols which marked different landmarks. Settlements that had a dominant population were denoted by a symbol denoting what race they were inhabited by. Urgal settlements were marked by a swirl pattern that he guessed was supposed to imitate the shape of their horns. Elf settlements were marked by a star. Dwarven settlements were denoted by a hammer, while human settlements were marked with a simple square. Any cities with a largely mixed population were marked with a circle. Despite his training, Thane was surprised to see how many mixed cities there were.

Nortavog sighed, "The cities, though they are many, are easy enough to police. The people, accept us, and most understand that everything we do, we try to do for the betterment of everyone involved."

"Most people?"

A faint snarl writhed her lips. "Yes, the masses are not the problem. However, there are certain . . . factors that have cost us no small amount of trouble."

"Such as?"

This time, it was Tarehlak who answered, an unexpected amount of venom in his voice. Slamming the mug of wine he had been drinking onto the table, he growled. "Why the solution to the magic problem! The great Queen Nasuada's lasting legacy, the Magicians' Guild."


	25. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

It took Eragon only minutes to locate her even in the darkness of the forest. His power at sensing life forms around him was second to none, so even amidst the trees, he quickly picked her out and resumed his attack. However, she had achieved her main goal. This enclosed space was much more suited to Keres fighting style than Eragon's. Her swift, agile attacks were much more effective here than his brute strength. The trees prevented the broad, powerful strokes that he favored. They also gave her many more footholds from which to launch attacks. Casting several spells to lend speed and strength to her legs, Keres was now on the offensive, forcing her mentor back with a furious barrage of attacks.

It was at the end of one such barrage that she got her first sign that she was making progress. After a complex riposte, she send a swift, roundhouse kick at his side. She had expected the blow to be blocked by his wards. Instead, there was a sound of shattering glass followed by a satisfying crunch that told her at least one of his ribs had cracked. Following up with a short swipe of her blade, she had the satisfaction of watching a line of blood trace across his left thigh. Finally, they were on even terms. She had elected to fight this battle without wards. They would only sap the energy she would need later when he began to tire.

Still, even with the energy Saphira had given her, her endurance was beginning to fail. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she felt twinges of pain in her legs as she continued to drive them long past their usual limits. The only heartening thing was that Eragon was clearly struggling now too. Sweat dripped down his face as he blocked another cut from her, forcing her up and over his head. Twisting in mid-air, she planted her feet on the underside of a large branch and launched herself back down at him, dropping like a hammer. The blow jolted her entire body, but the snarl that graced her mentor's face more than made up for it. _I can do this. I can beat him._

A faint buzzing noise drew her attention and, as she ducked beneath a thrust, she glanced behind her mentor, toward a large, ancient tree. Nestled beneath one of the lowest branches was a wasp's nest. Eragon's words echoed in her head. _Use any and all assets._ Blocking a downward cut, she swung out a leg in a powerful foot sweep. He leapt back, a few steps closer to the buzzing hoard. She followed up With a complex series of strikes, twisting her body to alter the angles of her blade. He countered, giving ground with each blow. Seven steps, five steps, three steps. Locking her blade with his, Keres leapt, tucking her knees to her chest, and planted both of her feet squarely into his abdomen. Eragon fell back, gasping for breath. His back hit the trunk of the tree. "Atlag älfr Letiblaka." Keres screamed the command aloud, following it up with a furious sideswipe.

"Barzul!" Eragon swore, jerking sideways as the furious swarm descended upon him. Without his wards to protect him, the stingers sunk into his flesh, raising several red lumps on his skin. In the few seconds it took him to cast the spell to protect himself, Keres struck. When he ducked beneath her blade, she brought her knee him, smashing it into his chin. As his head jerked up, she spun, delivering a swift, roundhouse kick to his left side. Despite her closeness, her spell shielded her from the buzzing insects and, though they attacked Eragon's head and shoulders, they failed to make any advances toward her. She followed up with a pommel strike that barely missed his temple. His left hand shot out, catching her in the center of her chest and flinging her backward. She tumbled twice before getting her legs beneath her, though she skidded several more feet before halting her momentum. By that time, Eragon was already moving toward her.

She sprinted at him, pushing her blade across her body and holding it against its scabbard. The distance between them was closing rapidly. Ten seconds to impact. Nine seconds to impact. Eight seconds to impact. Tensing her muscles, Keres readied herself for the strike. This was her chance. He was weakened. He was tiring. But she was also nearing the end of her strength. If she was going to make a move, this would be it. Seven seconds to impact. Six seconds to impact. She would have to time this perfectly. Too soon and she would miss her shot. Too late and, in spite of his warded blade, Eragon might actually cut her in half. Five seconds to impact. Four seconds to impact. Three seconds to impact. _Now!_

She turned in a tight circle, throwing out her left arm to maintain her balance. At this speed, it would be all too easy for her to fall. A glimpse of Eragon's surprised face flashed through her head as she turned her back on him, swiveling her head in an effort to keep him in sight. Two seconds to impact. One second to impact. She had timed it perfectly, her right side now faced Eragon as he bore down upon her. Making sure her left arm was clear, she drew her sword in a massive, diagonally slash aimed from his right hip to his left shoulder.

Impact.

Their backhand slashes had begun at the exact same moment. The sapphire blade flashed toward the silver one, their bodies almost perfectly mirroring each other as they launched their strikes at each other. _But I have the advantage._ This was her strongest strike, one of the only ones in her arsenal that could channel every muscle in her body and add any centrifugal force she had generated. Tensing her shoulder, she angled her strike slightly forward, aiming to catch Brisingr low on the blade, just above the hilt. This would negate Eragon's ability to parry the strike and would likely either disarm him or break his wrist. The world seemed to slow momentarily, elongating the seconds so that they felt like minutes to her. _I can do this. I can beat him._

The sharp crack of breaking metal rang out through the clearing. It was followed, almost immediately, by a scream of agony. Keres reeled, jerking her head away as fragments of steel flashed across her vision. She flashed past him, using what remained of her momentum to lash a final strike at his exposed back. The movement twisted her spine uncomfortably, sending a blast of pain up her back. But the impact she had expected never came. Instead, she crashed down on her side, sliding through the grass. She gasped in pain as the skin on her arm was peeled off by the momentum of her fall. As she slid to a stop, she managed to flop over onto her back, hissing in pain as another shock jolted up her body. Brisingr landed, point down, in the grass as Eragon groaned, clutching a wrist that dangled at a gruesome angle.

Keres lay, dazed, her feeling a dull, throbbing in her lower back. As her vision cleared, she was able to focus on the sword that was still clutched in her right hand. She couldn't believe her eyes. The blade she had used since Eragon had determined that she was old enough to wield a sword, hadn't just snapped, it had shattered. The jagged end of the broken blade now measured a scant four inches. She hadn't mistimed the strike against his back, the sword had just been shortened too much. Suddenly realizing that the wards she had set were likely gone, Keres felt a thrill of cold fear sink into her. If her attack had actually hit home, it would likely have laid open her master's flesh.

A blue sword suddenly materialized in front of her face. Squinting through watery eyes, she made out the face of Eragon above her. Brisingr was clasped in his uninjured left hand. "Dead." She let out a long sigh, closing her eyes and resting her head against the grass.

"Damn"

The sword vanished as he knelt beside her. "Are you injured?"

"My back . . . it hurts."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "I have to roll you over so I can look at." She nodded and he continued, "It's going to hurt. Are you ready?" When she nodded again he gently rolled her over, wincing visibly as her cry of pain echoed in the surrounding trees. She felt a gentle hand on her back, probing the muscles around her spine. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "It's alright. Looks like you just tweaked some muscles. I'll fix them." Seconds later, the pain began to recede as she heard him murmuring spells beneath his breath. Letting out a long sigh of relief, she pushed herself to her hands and knees after he finished.

Finally getting a clear look at her master, she saw this his wrist was still broken and he hadn't yet healed the welts on his arms, face, and neck. She bolted to her feet. "Master, I'm so sorry. Please, let me heal you."

He shook his head, climbing back to his feet. "The stings, I can heal easily enough on my own but this . . ." he nodded toward his wrist, "I think I will let this heal naturally." She cocked her head, protesting, but he offered no further explanation, nor did he allow her to heal the injury. He quickly removed the stingers from his skin, clearing away the welts with his good hand. As he finished, he looked around. "We should get back to the dragons. It's going to be getting dark soon." Without waiting for his response, he strode into the wood, forcing her to jog slightly to keep up. There was silence for a long time as they walked and the trees stretched on endlessly in all directions. She could tell from Eragon's expression, that he was thinking hard about something. Gathering her courage, she finally broke the silence.

"I know why you're afraid of me." When he didn't answer, she went on. "You are the reason for my existence. You are responsible for my creation as surely as if you had sired me." A shadow flickered across his face and she saw a spark of something flare behind his eyes. "Your speed, your strength, your legend, the legend of Eragon Shadeslayer, part-elf and part-human, that was what inspired my mother in creating me. A child who could pass as a human, yet had the physical and magical power of an elf. It's genius. I would have been even more dangerous than you, because for all your skill, you would still have to use magic to look fully human. I can do it effortlessly. I could have walked anywhere with anyone and no one could have stopped me."

She let out a humorless chuckle, looking down at her clasped hands. "I read the archives. Ever since your appearance, magicians have been trying to duplicate what was done to you by the dragons. But it never worked. The humans who tried broke their bodies, some died attempting to reverse the damage done to their bones and muscles. Normal humans aren't made to move so quickly or be so strong. Some went so far as to attempt the feat through sorcery. All perished in the attempt . . . all but me." There was silence for a few seconds before she continued. "I was always afraid to ask but . . . do you know . . . why?"

She looked up to see Eragon staring intently at her. He regarded her quietly, before finally saying. "I . . . can't be certain. Magic, as you well know, isn't a field that you can learn everything about."

"But you have at least one guess?"

"More than one."

"Will you tell me now?"

He sighed, eyes turning back to the unmarked path that they were walking. "You are aware that you may not like what I say?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, when you arrived, my first guess was that, perhaps, your mother found some way to . . . mate with an elf. However, that seems quite unlikely. Subduing any elf is difficult and the skill and magic it would have taken to do so is . . . extreme. Another possibility is that your mother found some way to get elf-blood into her system while you were in the womb. That would have made sense, but even a powerful magician would have suffered severe effects from such an experiment. Which leads me to my final guess, the one I believe to be most likely."

He turned brown eyes on her, watching carefully to see her reaction. "I think it's likely that you had some kind of mutation when you were being born. Even if your mother hadn't interfered with your development, you would likely have been a magic-user. The methods your mother used weren't terribly different from what other people did. She probably used spells to strengthen your limbs, after using elf-blood not on herself, but directly on you, most likely very early, when your body was still forming. This would have allowed you to develop with the elf-blood in your system and your body would have naturally incorporated both the spells and the blood."

She narrowed her eyes, "So, when the elves call me Blood-Born . . ."

"It's probably the most fitting moniker they could give you, if not the most desirable." He admitted. She nodded a few times, slowly digesting his words. It was another couple of minutes before he spoke again. "There will always be doubts about you. Your birth demands it. Murtagh taught me that you can't escape your parentage. You cannot escape the circumstances of your birth Keres."

She tightened her fists, "But Murtagh helped you in the end. He was reason you were able to finally kill Galbatorix and Shruikan."

"That is true." He admitted, "But it was only because of his father that Galbatorix took an interest in him. Had he not been sired by the first and last Forsworn, he may have grown up to lead a normal, happy life. As it was, much of his life was nothing but misery and suspicion. It was a heavy cross to bear, one that no person should ever have to endure. But, unfortunately, there are people who must live with such things." He fell silent yet again, waiting several seconds before his next words. "Keres, your training ends here."

She blinked, cold dread filling her stomach and sucking the air from her lungs. "But master, I only meant . . ."

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I have been involved in the training of every rider since the Rider War. None, save Arya and Murtagh, could have fought me on such equal terms." Pausing to examine her face, he continued, "Take the rest of the day off, and tomorrow as well. Replenish your strength. Tomorrow night, you will go to Rhunön's forge. It seems you need a new sword."

Keres' mouth fell open. "You mean"

"Yes" He smiled tiredly at her, "as of tomorrow night, you are full fledged Dragon Rider."


	26. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Dawn came earlier than Thane would have liked. Patrols were a daily part of a Dragon Rider's life. Oftentimes, they lasted for days, possibly weeks depending on how many cities were to be visited. Their lack of numbers forced most riders to be constantly on the go. Riders stationed at the same post were only ever guaranteed to see each other at the bi-monthly meetings that were held in each outpost. Today, however, the mission was a bit less strenuous. Nortavog and Stenfeon would be accompanying them so that the rookies could learn the ropes of patrol. Since this would be Thane's first assignment, they would only be out for a day, scouting in Dras-Leona.

To take full advantage of Thane's unknown status, it had been agreed that he and Evaríncel would land out of sight of the city and he would enter on foot. Nortavog was a recognized quantity. Even if urgals were now a common enough sight within the city walls, she had been through the city enough times where most residents knew her by sight. Thane, on the other hand, could slip beneath the radar and gather information that would never find its way to her ears. His casual, attire and travel-stained cloak would complete the image he was trying to achieve. The only thing that could possibly derail the plan was Kveykva. A rider was not permitted to go anywhere without their sword, so the white blade would be covered by a dark, leather sheath and the pommel would be overlain with a metal cast. All things considered, it looked like a shoddy, sell-sword's blade.

As Thane and Evaríncel followed in the shadow of the pink dragon, Nortavog quickly filled them in as to the state of affairs in Dras-Leona. In the void caused by the disbanding of the blood-priests, several different religions had sprung up within the city. It was now dominated by a cult devoted to a deity they called Razin, the Golden God of fire and the sun. They believed that it was he who sent Eragon and Saphira to bring light into the darkness of Dras Leona, and they saw Dragon Riders as the messengers of their god. The riders had intentionally avoided perpetuating this idea, however, the cult had done a great deal of work in regards to helping the poor and promoting peace between the races, so the Riders had elected not to disband them.

Kalani Cianthral was the reigning governor of Dras Leona. Despite a barbed tongue and slightly acidic personality, the Riders had found her to be a decisive and progressive ruler. Trade through the region had flourished under her rule, and she had established a major art school within the bounds of the city. Dras Leona was now one of the largest exporters of blown glass in Alagaësia. Kalani had also ruthlessly culled her advisors and city officials, casting out those she felt were not up to the task of ruling such a great city. "Still," Nortavog amended, "she is not one to surround herself with flatterers either. She prefers men and women with brains of their own. At the very least, she recognizes that the city is too large for her to run on her own."

The sun was well into the sky when the white dragon broke away from his pink counterpart. Flaring his wings, Evaríncel settled on the bank of Leona Lake. His massive claws sank into the soft ground as he turned his head, watching as Thane dismounted.

"I envy you this chance. I haven't seen such a city since I was newly hatched."

_You can see through my eyes. Either way, judging from what they've told us, there isn't much room in the city for a dragon. Stenfeon can't really leave the governor's compound. _

The white wings rustled in annoyance and a puff of smoke drifted from dilated nostrils. "Never before in my life have I wished that I were smaller."

Thane put a gentle hand on the armored forehead. _There will be plenty of cities. We have a lifetime ahead of us. _

"Several lifetimes if we are speaking in human years." The brief flash of humor put a smile on Thane's face and he withdrew his hand. Drawing the cloak from his pack, he slung it around his shoulders, fastening it neatly.

_Will you be alright until I return?_

"Of course." The dragon strode a ways up the bank, finding a patch of grass to lie down in. "The rest will likely do me good." Closing his eyes with a boney snick, he added, "Do not hesitate to call me if you find yourself in danger. Narrow streets or no, I will come and find you."

_I know you will._ Turning from his partner, Thane moved away from the bank, toward one of the less-traveled roads that ran toward the city. The main paths entered Dras Leona from completely different directions, running from Bellatona and Illrea respectively. Thane had underestimated how much of his fitness he had lost during the flight back to Alagaësia. After only an hour of walking, his legs were sore and cramping. The trail he followed was really nothing more than a gap in the endless sea of grasses. Off to his right, he could see the glistening surface of Leona Lake, but he lost sight of his dragon within the first twenty minutes of walking.

It was noon before the city finally came into sight on the horizon. The high, black walls gleamed in the sunlight, sheer, imposing stone that towered into the sky. There were only three gates into the city, each barred by massive, metal-and-wood doors. He could see one such door ahead of him. The Northern Gate was less frequented than the Eastern or Southern Gates. Still, he could see what looked to be a small line of ants assembled on the path ahead. These would be travelers seeking entrance to the city. Every traveler would have to state their business and declare any goods they had brought to sell. The guards would take note of the number of travelers entering the city and compile the information in the central archives. Dras Leona was one of the only cities that kept a running ledger regarding who was in the city at any given time. It was another reason that the city was so successful.

It was another hour before Thane joined the line waiting to enter the city. He settled himself behind a father with two, young sons. Each of them had a bundle slung across their back. Judging from the faint chinking sound that emanated from the packs when they walked, Thane guessed that they were carried some small instruments: knives perhaps, or small farming tools. During the meal the previous night, Tarehlak had told him that, in order to make some money, most Dragon Riders picked up a small crafting skill and sold their wares where they could. The dwarf rider, using a small forge he had fashioned for himself, made small trinkets, dwarven puzzle-boxes and brain teasing links of metal, that he sold through a certain merchant in Dras Leona. In what little spare time she had, Nortavog wove fabrics after the fashion of her people. It would behoove him, Thane realized, to pick up such a craft himself. He had some skill at wood-working. He had often amused himself in Vrenbana by creating small, wooden carvings to decorate his room. It would be something to look into.

Then he was at the gate. The family in front of him had revealed to the guard that they were indeed selling kitchen and hunting knives. Thane made a mental note to find where they were selling their wares. He had an 8-inch hunting knife that he kept in a sheath near the base of his spine. However, he had been searching for a smaller knife to accompany it. He would also need to find a wood-carving knife if he intended on making a go of his carving idea. As the man and his children tramped through the gate, into the city, the four guards who waited outside turned their attention to Thane.

"Name?"

Pasting a friendly smile on his face, Thane answered, "My name is Thane, if it pleases you. I'd give you a last name, but I'm afraid I have none to offer."

Looking as if he couldn't have cared less, the guard continued, "State your business."

"I'm entering the city in search of goods to purchase. I need food, and I'm seeking a pair of good knives. Might you know where I could find some?"

The second guard, who held a pike, answered this time. "It depends what you're looking for. If it's hunting knives you seek, you'll want to visit Breol's shop in the southern quadrant. For just about everything else, I'd go to Mercia's. She's over in the western quadrant." The guard paused for a moment, then added, "Just don't go using any knives to make trouble. We don't tolerate trouble makers in Dras Leona."

Thane nodded, flashing another smile as the first guard waved him through. It was clear that conversation was not high on the list of priorities for a gate-guard. _Not that it surprising. I expect it would slow down how quickly they can get people into the city. _ "I will remember that. Thank you friend." The guard dipped his head in acknowledgement as Thane strode beneath the gate, emerging, for the first time, into the city of Dras Leona.

Thane had seen Dras-Leona in several fairths during his time in Vrenbana, however, the city he now entered was much nicer than the hovel shown in the pictures. Almost every building in the city was composed of the same, white stone. It couldn't have been marble, for to build this much out of such an expensive material would have cost an unimaginable amount of money. Still, whatever stone they were using, it definitely looked like marble. The few buildings that weren't made of this white stone were made of a different, brown-ish black material. Almost all of these were located near the outer walls.

This was where most new shopkeepers started out. Unless you had enough money to purchase a shop in the inner areas, you had to start out renting a building on the outskirts of the city. If the city found your shop to be successful, you could apply to purchase a building closer to the interior of the city. It was an ingenious method of keeping the area closest to the governor's mansion as wealthy as possible. Only the most well-reputed and successful shops were allowed to be housed closest to the palace. As wealthier shops could afford nicer facades and could hold higher-end merchandise, this meant that the areas of the city directly surrounding the mansion were the most splendid and well-maintained.

Because some of the streets were so tight, the citizens had come up with an ingenious method for denoting different types of buildings. The outer walls of the shops that sold merchandise were decorated with green stone. Places that specialized in lending money had yellow stones set into the wall. Shops specializing in food boasted red stone. Inns and taverns were denoted by black stone. The lower-class shops had only a basic pattern near the roof, while more affluent shops had large, sprawling mosaics. It was also a fairly reliable way to predict the prices each store would charge for their goods. A shop with a more basic design would have lower prices, but also lower quality merchandise. You could expect to pay at least 50% more in a shop with a more elaborate design.

More than anything else, it was the sheer volume of people in the cramped streets that shocked him. He was constantly being jostled. People surged around him, bumping him at every turn. The streets were only wide enough for three people to walk abreast. What few open courtyards he came across were often choked with a group of people standing around a single individual, usually ranting loudly about one of the various religions that thrived within the city. He wandered around the western quadrant for nearly an hour before he finally caught sight of the sign he was looking for. Mercia's shop, which he had learned from a street vendor only after purchasing a small honey roll, was called Double-Edged, and was marked by a sign shaped like a two-headed battle axe.

Thane was halfway across the courtyard, when someone's shoulder slammed into his. Years of training kicked in to keep him from falling, instead prompting him to swivel his hips to face what his body perceived as an attacker. To his surprise, he found himself face to face with a man in a dark, purple robe. He was flanked by two similarly dressed companions, one a man and the other a woman. Currently, he was glaring furiously at Thane.

"Watch where you're going. Can't you see we're in a hurry on the governor's business?"

"Does that give you permission to run over whomever you like?" The words were out before Thane had could stop them. As a rider, he was used to being treated respectfully, if not reverently in some cases. However, even had he not been a rider, such an open display of hostility and rudeness would have provoked a similar response.

A flush of color rose in the man's cheeks as his female companion broke in. "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Savant Realnor of the Magician's Guild, one of the advisors to the Governor." Thane knew that the title of Savant was only given to a select group of mages in each branch of the guild. It indicated many years of scholarly study and an aptitude for magic beyond what was normally expected of magicians. When Thane continued to look unimpressed, the woman's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You seem to lack the proper respect for magicians. You wouldn't be a Sagasir, would you?"

Thane blinked, "A what?"

"Sagasir." The woman sneered. "An unregistered magic user. In these parts, if you can use magic, you have to be registered with the Guild. Failure to register can result in some very . . . unpleasant consequences."

Thane had to choke back a response to the tone of her words. He was undercover here. Getting into a fight would reveal his identity, and also likely create trouble for the Riders. Drawing in a deep breath, he lowered his eyes. "I am no Sagasar." He intentionally mangled the word, hoping to underline his ignorance. The ploy worked.

"It's Sagasir." The woman snorted, rolling her eyes. "Get out of our way. We have more important things to attend to than the education of vagabonds."

The leader, however, did not seem completely convinced. Thane felt the intense gaze upon him for several more seconds. Though he dared not lift his eyes to meet the man's gaze, he could almost sense the scrutiny he was under. Luckily, it seemed they really did have more pressing matters to attend to. After a few seconds, all three magicians brushed past him and made their way down the street. The crowd parted around them. Every man, woman, and child pulled back against the wall to leave a circle of open space around the three, as if they carried some contagious disease. A frown creased Thane's forehead as he watched them go. He had always chalked up the Dragon Riders' dislike of the Magicians Guild to the fact that the Riders were angry they couldn't police the entire territory, as they once had. Now, however, it seemed that those feelings might have had a totally different basis.

The words of his formal mentor echoed in his mind. _Ah child, you think the world exists in black and white, but it is rarely so. Good and evil, though they seem clear-cut, are not nearly so easy to distinguish. There are many shades of gray, some darker than others. And it is those grays they we Dragon Riders fear most. _


	27. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

As it turned out, her first act as a fully fledged Dragon Rider was to eat as much as she could while taking a hot bath. Well, that and informing Vikonyx of their promotion. The roar of triumph the black dragon had loosed shook the trees and sent bird scattering in all directions. Of course, there was little time to celebrate. Ideally, a rider would have months to prepare for the blade-making ceremony withRhunön. They would squirrel away every spare drop of energy into a gem that they would then use to aid in the crafting of their blade. Keres, however, had used every scrap of energy she had ever stored in the past few weeks attempting to keep up with the workload Eragon had put before her.

Now, she would have to make do with what energy she had within her. Vikonyx was not allowed to aid in this. The blade had to be created using only Keres' energy, making it a weapon completely and totally crafted for her. So she had sat, for hours, in the tub she kept within her chambers at Cieráed. The water was warm, nearly scalding, and the bottom was contoured with hundreds of bumps and ridges that massaged her flesh as she shifted. On a low table next to her was the meal that Eragon had sent to her room. She had been famished. The cost of using so much magic was high, and she had eagerly devoured half a chicken, a large, herbal salad, and several rolls covered in grape jam. A complete water pitcher had been delivered along with the meal, lightly flavored with lemon slices that floated amongst the ice cubes. Keres had eaten and drank until she was certain that she was going to pop.

That night had been the best sleep she had gotten in months. Her exhaustion kept all dreams far away. When she awoke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. The massive amount of food she had eaten had successfully replenished her stores of magic, and the bath had soothed all the aches and pains she had garnered the last couple weeks. As she had entered the hall for breakfast, she was immediately accosted by Dirlaga and Koaloth.

"You did it!" The dwarf-girl shrieked, bouncing up and down.

Koaloth pulled her into a bone-crushing hug that nearly suffocated her. "Well done White-Eyes."

When she finally recovered the ability to breathe, she smiled up at them. "Thanks guys. I really . . ."

She was cut off as Dirlaga leaned forward, "Is it true that you and Eragon-ebrithil fought over it? I heard the other masters talking at the table. They said you nearly beat him."

Wincing, Keres hastily tried to decide how to respond. "We . . . had a bit of a misunderstanding. We weren't communicating very well, so we had a sparring match in an effort to . . . reconnect."

Vikonyx broke in here, whispering in her mind. "That was a good lie."

_Shut up._

"That is not the way I heard it." Koaloth rumbled. "I heard that you two had a major falling out."

Before Keres could respond, another voice broke in. "I would have expected better of my apprentice than to listen to rumors spread by those who have no real knowledge of the event." All three apprentices turned to see Narilaer standing just behind them. Though his comment was spoken calmly, the obvious disapproval on his face made even Keres duck her head, though it was not directed at her. "Whatever happened," he continued, "is known only to Eragon and Keres. It is none of your concern. People routinely get into trouble by sticking their noses where they don't belong." The meaning of his words was clear and Koaloth quickly mumbled an apology before retreating to his seat.

The blue-eyed elf watched him go before turning his attention back to the young woman. In a softer voice, he murmured, "I am glad that you and your master worked out your troubles."

She gave a sheepish smile. "Was it that obvious?"

He flashed a small smile. "Only to those of us who have known Eragon for many, many years." He put a hand on her shoulder. "You have done well. More importantly, you have proven to be an apt student, willing to learn and experience new things. You will make a fine Dragon Rider."

Maira elbowed him aside, "Nari, you're still talking to her like an apprentice. She's a Rider now." The golden haired woman threw her arms around her younger counterpart, "Congratulations! Are you excited?" Keres nodded vigorously, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the attention. "Well, go and get your breakfast. I know you're trying to prepare for tonight. But again, congratulations!" She breezed off, leaving Keres starting after her, a look of mingled confusion and appreciation on her face.

"Well," Narilaer said, clearly attempting to hide his amusement, "you've now met the Maira that we all know."

"And love?" Keres added mischievously. Narilaer made a noncommittal noise, raising his eyebrows. Grinning at him, she feigned surprise. "Master Narilaer, you have a sense of humor!"

"So I'm told." His deadpan, reserved expression finally sent her over the edge and she began to laugh uproariously. When she finally recovered, tears were rolling down her cheeks and her sides ached.

The elf raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite finished?" When she nodded, still choking slightly, he bowed slightly. "Well, I would once again like to give you my congratulations. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm afraid I have more people to entertain." He strode away, looking as dignified as ever despite his parting line.

Finally, Keres seated herself and heaped a few slices of bacon, two eggs, and several slices of bread onto her plate. _It's only been a half-day since Eragon promoted me, and already they treat me like a real rider._

"Are you complaining?" Vikonyx asked.

_Well, no. I mean, I've been waiting for this for so many years._

"Then what's the problem?"

_I've just never seen it happen this quickly._

"Well, the masters know you better. You've trained with each of them at least two or three times. They're comfortable with you, as well they should be." She added, forestalling the comment that was already on the tip of Keres' tongue.

The young rider spent the day meditating beneath one of the waterfalls that flowed from the peaks of Almer, to the northwest of Vrenbana. Eragon had brought her here during the first few days of her apprenticeship. This was where she had learned the Dance of Snake and Crane and also where she had begun her meditation to hear and see everything she could. It was a special place to her, a place where many of the best days of her childhood had been spent. Thus, it was only fitting that she should return here now. The water that poured down on her shoulders and head was chilly, but thanks to the hypnotic pounding of the falls, Keres barely felt the cold. Vikonyx stayed on the nearest bank, sunning herself and sleeping off a night of hunting.

In the days before the Fall of the Riders, Rhunön had taken days to craft a Rider's blade. Now, with her vow to never craft another sword, the Riders had to utilize the same methods she had used to forge Brisingr. It would be done in a single night, and using Keres' arms. The elf smith built the forge in advance and melt the brightsteel in preparation for the creation of the new blade. That had been one of Eragon's other missions, during his search for a home for the Dragon Riders. He had hoarded every ounce of brightsteel he came across, purchasing it or mining it, if necessary. The result had been a literal treasure-trove of the metallic alloy. Three days earlier, Keres had entered the room where the brightsteel was stores and selected a chunk of rock for Rhunön to begin working.

So, as the sun sank behind the horizon, Keres and Vikonyx made their way to Rhunön's cottage at the edge of Gjera Lake. Even from a distance, they could seen the bright glow of the forge she had prepared and the dark shape, silhouetted against the flames. The smith nodded in their direction as the black dragon landed, folding her wings and allowing Keres to slip from her back. The elf-smith continued to work the forge for a few more moments, then turned to face the young rider.

"You're early."

"My apologies Rhunön-elda. I was excited."

The elf glared at her for a moment before the expression softened, "Well, at the very least you are honest. And you've waited long enough for this. I've been telling Eragon for years that you were ready for your blade." She turned to look at Vikonyx and nodded respectfully. "We are well met, skulblaka."

"Well met indeed, Rhunön-elda." Vikonyx responded. "I look forward to witnesses the crafting of a blade. I have heard many tales of your powers. They say you wield fire nearly as well as we do."

The woman harrumped, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. Even so, the set of her shoulders told Keres that the compliment had gone over well. She strode back over to the forge and Keres followed, drawing in a deep breath as the woman stoked the flames again, blasting them both with waves of scalding air. Rhunön began, "Usually I would ask if you wanted to use the sword of a previous rider, but as you well know, that isn't an option for you. No rider has ever wielded a black sword." With a faint frown, she began working the bellows. "It is not well known, but thrice before, a rider has been bonded to a black dragon. In both cases, the rider died before receiving their blade. It began to circulate that black dragons were bad luck, and doomed their riders to an early grave."

She straightened, once again turning to face the younger woman. "That, of course, is utter nonsense. But the fact remains, you are the first to survive to this point. So we shall have to forge a blade for you." Her brown creased as she raked her eyes up and down the young woman's slender frame. "I have no need to spar with you. I've seen you fight often enough. However, I need to see the match that took place yesterday." When Sable didn't move, the old elf snapped her fingers. "Now, child. I need to see your memories. Sit there and I will watch them." She pointed to a weathered stump.

Jolted into action, Sable quickly seated herself. Her hands tightened on the legs of her pants as the old elf approached. She was never completely comfortable with anyone other than Vikonyx inside her head. Still, this was a necessary discomfort. She closed her eyes as Rhunön laid a hand on her head. The touch was so un-elf-like that Keres almost recoiled. Instead of the music she had come to associate with the mind of the fair-folk, Rhunön's consciousness echoed with the discordant clang of metal striking metal. It was a rhythmic, regular sound and Keres quickly recovered her composure. Then, as if she were watching a tape playing behind her eyelids, Keres felt the elf reach into her memories of the previous day.

There were moments of discomfort as the two of them observed the events that occurred during the battle. At the time, Keres had given little thought to her emotions. Certainly, they had fueled her, but her focus was entirely on attacking and defending. Now, she was painfully aware of the jumble of feelings that had battled for supremacy within her.

Anger, because Eragon knew she should have graduated long ago and was holding her back.

Hurt, because even he was afraid of her and feared what she could become.

Fury, because he had lied to her all this time, pretending to trust her while always fearing her.

Excitement, because she could finally cross blades with him without holding back.

Then, Keres watched as all those emotions gave way to a single, overpowering feeling: joy. Fierce, battle joy flooded her body and mind, lifting her above the mire of those emotions. All conscious thought vanished from her mind. There was only instinct. She acted. She reacted. It was a terrible and wonderful emotion. Even now, Keres felt her pulse quicken as her breaths came slightly shallower. And then Rhunön withdrew and the flood of images ceased. Opening her eyes, Keres stared up at the old smith.

A rare smile stretched across the ash-smudged face as Rhunön spoke. "That was quite a sparring match." The smile faded to be replaced by a more thoughtful look. "You favor hand-and-a-half swords, like your master correct?" Keres nodded. "But your style is more graceful. You're better suited to long, flowing slashes." She grumbled to herself for a minute, so low that Keres couldn't hear what she said. Then she barked, "Do you want your blade to be single or double-edged?"

The question caught Keres off guard. "I've only ever trained with double-edged weapons, but Eragon has often told me I favor one side of the blade over the other."

"Single edged then." The elf rubbed her chin, her expression thoughtful. Then, something in her eyes shifted and she nodded to herself. "Yes . . . yes that will work perfectly." Beckoning for the girl to follower her into the forge, Rhunön strode back toward the bright light. "Finding a gemstone for this blade was difficult. All of the usual black gems, black diamonds, spinel, black tourmaline, were all too reflective. Yours is not going to be an iridescent blade like Brisingr. I considered onyx and obsidian, but even those didn't feel right. And then, I found it." Her eyes blazed as she reached into a pouch at her waist. "The moment I saw this gem, I knew that this would be the one I set into your hilt."

She handed the stone to Keres, who stared down at it. The gem was black, as she had expected. However, in the center, was a white, starburst pattern. Six points stretched off in different directions, thin white lines that exploded outward. It was a beautiful stone. "What is it?"

"We call it Jarnagua, the Eye of the Stars. There are only three mines where they can be harvested, so they are relatively rare, but I acquired this one some time ago." Rhunön took the stone, slipping it back into her pouch. "Now, let us get started. I will need a few moments to acclimate myself to your body."

Keres nodded again, though with a little less enthusiasm this time. She had never had anyone actually control her body before. It was a practice that was frowned upon, despite the fact that most riders were capable of the feat. It was a violation of privacy, and if it had to be done, it could only be practiced with the permission of the one who would be controlled. Rhunön seemed to have no such concerns, but delved unceremoniously into Keres' mind. A prickle of fear rolled down her spine as Keres felt her arms and legs begin to flex without any commands from her mind. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to relax as the elf took a few practice steps, rotating her arms. _If Eragon could do this, I can do it._

She heard a snort from behind her. "Eragon blundered through the vast majority of his youth. Admittedly, he accomplished much, but had he received the training and preparation that you have, perhaps we would have felt more confident when he faced the tyrant-king."

_Well, her reputation for being blunt has not been exaggerated._ Keres said to Vikonyx, realizing only after the words had crossed her mind that the elf could hear them all.

"Blunt is a word used by people who do not want to hear the truth. Attempts to appear diplomatic often only impede the meaning of what needs to be said." The elf responded, moving Keres over to the forge. "We will begin now. Are you ready?"

Keres drew in a breath. "Yes"


	28. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Double-Edged, as it turned out, was a rather aptly named establishment. Two armed men stood guard outside the front door, while inside, three more were posted at intervals around the main room. It was easy to see why. Nearly every shelf and cupboard was filled with rows upon rows of various knives, daggers, and swords. There was also a selection of spears axes in one corner, but these were clearly not intended to be shop centerpieces. The knives were grouped based on uses. There were cooking knives, throwing knives, hunting knives, and all-purpose knives. The daggers and swords were arranged in order of size.

Thane felt a growing sense of disappointment as he slowly circled the room once, noting items of interest, but was initially unable to determine the reason for the feeling. He noted the length of each blade and handle. He noted the condition of the steel and the sharpness of the edge that each held. He noted the distinct differences between the wooden handled knives and those with metal handles wrapped in leather. It was only when he found himself scrutinizing the few decorated blades that he realized the reason for his discontent. The quality of the weapons was nowhere near what he would have found in the shops of Vrenbana.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he reflected on how foolish it was. Of course the quality here wouldn't even be close to that of Vrenbana. There were precious few smiths in the valley, but these were all of the highest quality. Eragon would accept no less given his riders would be using blades crafted by these smiths for the majority of their apprenticeship. "And training with a poor blade," Maira had often said, "is worse than not training at all." Even the ploughs used by the farmers in the valley were of exceptional quality. Now it seemed that years of seeing perfectly designed and crafted weapons had given him a refined taste.

Still, he thought, picking one of the blades. The quality wasn't necessarily bad. The metal was strong and the edges sharp. He moved over to the hunting blades. What he needed right now was a dual-purpose knife, one that could kill an animal as well as skin it. It wouldn't need to punch through armor or anything. Kveykva would be more than sufficient for fighting armored enemies. So that meant that he might be able to get away with an inferior knife. _Inferior._ That was the one word that galled him. He didn't want to spend his money on an inferior product. Even if he purchased one of these knives, he worried that he would always be disappointed by the quality and feel. Somehow, these knives just felt ever so slightly off balance, ever so slightly awkward in his grip. _No. These won't do. _He decided finally, replacing the knife he was holding.

It was only then that he registered the conversation going on not five feet behind him. Lost in his thoughts, he had wandered closer to where the customers were checked out, near where a young man with short, black curls was speaking urgently to an older woman with graying hair. The boy's face was twisted with intensity and the small, but frantic gesticulations of his hands told Thane that the boy was very upset. To call him a boy was, perhaps, a bit degrading. He was a young man, probably 16 or 17. Though he was whispering, Thane could still hear nearly every word he was saying.

"Our sales are down 15% since he started. You said that there was no way we could drop more than 5%, but we have, okay? He gets out on the plains and sells to the nomads. Why would they come here, if they can just have the goods brought to their damn doorsteps? He and that damned dragon are going to run us out of business."

_Dragon? _There was only one male dragon rider in the area, as far as these people knew anyways. And there was definitely only one person would could affect the sales of a knife and blade store. _Tarehlak_. Feigning interest in some of the larger knives, Thane sidled closer, trying to make himself seem as inconspicuous as possible.

The woman was speaking now. "What do you want me to do? We don't have the means to get out to the wandering tribes. Even if we did, it would take weeks to get there and weeks to get back, and the entire time, we'd have to worry about being robbed. A dragon is a much better deterrent to theft than we will ever have." She ran a hand over her face, then seemed to notice Thane for the first time and dropped her voice even lower. "We'll figure something out, okay? We'll get through this." With that, she turned and vanished up a flight of stairs behind the counter.

Thane was left staring at the knives in front of him. He hadn't considered that the products the Dragon Riders produced might have an effect on local store-owners. As far as he knew, Tarehlak only crafted about 10-20 blades a month. Compared to the stock of this store, it was a paltry amount. Still, Thane could understand the problem. Nomads that usually traveled miles and miles to get to Dras Leona and purchase metal goods could now just wait for Tarehlak to go on his patrol and bring his goods to them. It was a complex problem, he mused. On one hand, Dragon Riders were here to help the people. It was unfortunate that their crafts should hurt local store owners. On the other hand, it was better for the nomads to have products delivered to them, instead of having to make the long trek to the city during which women and children would be left with weakened defenses.

Dragon Riders weren't paid an annual salary. They could requisition supplies that they needed from any merchant in the kingdom, though doing so required keeping detailed notes of what was requested and what it would be used for. They were only allowed to requisition things necessary to the fulfillment of their duties. Food, blankets, bags, and household goods were all fairly easy to requisition. Armor could also be requisitioned, but in order to do so, a rider had to provide proof that their standard issue armor had been damaged beyond repair. Weapons could never be requisitioned as all Riders were given a sword at the completion of their training anyways. Any other items a Rider desired, they had to work for. Most picked up a trade and sold their wares in order to make a small amount of spending money. However, even that could pose a problem if it interfered with the sales of local businesses. Thane made a mental note to speak to his comrades about it when he returned to Sunvarda.

He lingered a while longer, debating the pros and cons of purchasing one of the hunting knives. Finally, he decided that it was probably better to wait until he went to one of the other cities further south. The dwarves had a larger presence in those places. It was likely that he could find a shop that carried dwarf-made goods and a blade that was more to his liking. Still, he could, at least, see if they had any carving knives. He wasn't an excellent carver yet, so it wouldn't make a difference if he had good knives versus great knives. To that end, he wouldn't feel uncomfortable buying them from this place. And it would be nice to support the store, given the troubles they were facing. It wouldn't make up for what they had lost, but it was a little more revenue and that might help.

Turning, he caught sight of a young woman hurrying out of a back room. She carried two, identical hunting knives in her arms and, as he watched, she quickly replaced a pair that had just been purchased. As she made her way back toward the doorway, Thane called out to her.

"Excuse me ma'am." She turned, a quizzical expression on her face. Giving her his most pleasant smile, he continued. "Do you have any wood carving knives in stock?"

She nodded, "We only have a few I'm afraid. There aren't very many people interested in wood carving anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Yes. They never sold terribly well, but we used to move at least a few, more for hobbyists than anything else you know? But since that Academy of the Arts opened up, now everyone is focused on glass blowing and painting and stone carving. They see wood as too rustic."

"Well, rustic is quite my speed."

She smiled, tossing long, honey-colored hair. "Well, that is refreshing to hear. If you'll follow me, I can show you our stock. They're kind of off to one side now." She led him over toward the far corner of the room. As they neared, Thane caught sight of several carving knives arrayed atop a beautifully painted cupboard. During his childhood, he had often seen his father carving when the King was stressed. Thane had found that it was, in fact, an excellent way to occupy his mind and pass the time. He had tried his hand at carving during his time at Vrenbana, but always with a small dagger, not an actual carving knife.

The woman picked up the nearest knife, one in a set of five. "Mother made the blades, so it's made to last and hold an edge, just like our larger knives." She added, a mischievous grin flitting across her face. She handed him the knife. "The handles are hornbeam. They're strong and will hold up under just about any reasonable circumstances. My brother, Vori made them. He fancies himself a wood carver, but sanding is about the extent of his abilities."

Thane laughed, "Still, if he made these handles, then his sanding is a skill to be envied." He ran a finger over the wood. "I'd imagine it takes skill to make a handle like this comfortable to hold for a couple of hours." The wood was been shaped in such a way that it fit perfectly with his fingers and against the curve of his hands. Looking over at her, he asked, "What would you suggest?"

She sucked her cheek for a moment. "I'd go with these three." She gestured to three knives, one small, one medium, one large, that came with a leather strap, indicating that they were a matching set. "The steel was a particularly good batch, and Vori stained the handles. Function and fashion in one neat, little package." She intoned, flashing another vibrant grin.

He nodded, picking up the set. "I guess I'll take it then." After a few seconds of silence, he realized that she was now regarding him curiously. For a heartbeat, he was confused. Then, realizing the problem, he feigned examining the knives more closely. "What's the price?"

Her expression remained the same as she answered. "15 crowns."

"Mmmmm, seems a bit pricy." He said, biting his lip in a show of uncertainty. He continued the charade for a few more moments before deciding that he had probably done enough. "But alright, I'll take them."

"Great! Let's go get you checked out then."

Thane followed her to the counter, mentally berating himself. In Vrenbana, almost everything he needed had been handed to him soon after he requested it. Clothes and tools were provided for the riders by the elves that lived in the valley. They had no real need for currency. They could make just about anything that they needed, so they had no problem supplying the Riders with their wares for free. It had been quite some time since Thane had actually had to pay for anything himself. It felt strange to be concerned about the price of something, but still, it was a habit he would need to get into if he was going to fit in well here, in Alagaësia.

He was still kicking himself as he opened up the small coin pouch that hung near his waist. Counting out the coins, he set them on the table in front of her. Eager to allay any suspicions she might have, he ventured, "I'm Thane. What's your name?"

She scooped up the coins. "I'm Diana."

"And, given your intimate knowledge of your stock, I'd imagine you don't just tend the store?"

The bright smile was back as she laughed. "Aren't we observant? No, I'm learning the art of metalwork from my mother. I can't do blades and weapons like her. I'm not quite big enough." She gestured to her arms, which were thin and graceful. "So she's teaching me to make jewelry and smaller tools." She wrinkled her nose, "I'm not very far in my training yet, but I'm learning."

Accepting the set of knives from her, Thane smiled back. "Well, Miss Diana. When you start to put your wares out, I shall have to return. I'm sure they will be exquisite." _Everyone is susceptible to flatter, particularly females and dragons, and especially female dragons. _The thought, an old adage of the Riders, made him smile even more.

Diana's face flushed with delight as she nodded, "Well, feel free to come back anytime. And perhaps then we'll have what you were really looking for." She flashed another smile before turning and gracefully disappearing into one of the back rooms in the store.

"Guess you aren't quite as clever as you thought you were."

The words made him jump. _Evaríncel! How long have you been listening?_

"Long enough to be amused." The dragon countered. "The sudden surge of self-consciousness interrupted my nap. She must have been pretty. What did she look like?" When Thane didn't answer, the dragon pressed him. "Given your age, it is only natural that you would begin to show more interest in the opposite gender. I will admit, I found it a point of fascination that you resisted the infatuation that usually affects most humans of your age."

_Evaríncel!_ Thane knew that his cheeks were burning. He hurriedly left the shop, stuffing the knives and their case into his traveling bag. His shopping now finished, Thane set off to begin the reconnaissance part of his mission, the questions of the white dragon ringing loudly in his ears.

* * *

Welcome back Risa readers. Out of necessity, I have divided what was once the first part of the Prologue into an Introduction and a Prologue - Part 1. Please note that the Introduction contains a list detailing the hierarchy of the Dragon Riders at the opening of the story. I hope this serve to clear up some of the confusion over numerous characters. Atra esterní ono thelduin.


	29. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Rhunön walked her over the forge and Keres felt the searing heat that seeped from it. It was, if possible, every bit as hot as the dragon-fire that Vikonyx could spew on command. For a moment, she wondered if the elf-smith had ever used dragon-fire for her craft. Then she shook the thought away. She had learned that smiths preferred to have control of every aspect of their work under their own control. By using regular fire, Rhunön could control the temperature and the length of the burn. It was, no doubt, much easier to work that way, Keres decided as Rhunön used her hands to stoke the flame and pump the bellows.

"I've heard it said that conversing with yourself is a sign of madness. But I've found that it goes a long way toward not asking stupid questions." The elf almost sounded approving as she moved Keres over to her workbench, having the girl pick up each of the instruments and testing the degree to which she could manipulate them with the Dragon Rider's hands. "To answer the question you didn't ask, I experimented with using dragon-fire back during the heyday of the Riders. It takes an old, experienced dragon to help in a forge. They must be well-versed in the art of breathing fire and they must have an exceptional amount of control over the temperature and stream. The blades were solid, but there is not yet a dragon experienced enough, save maybe Saphira, who possesses the skills I require."

Keres felt her fingers curl around a particularly heavy hammer and the elf had her lift it. It was weighty, but she was able to swing it effortlessly. "Interesting." The elf's tone was almost musing. "Not quite elf, but not quite human either. And somehow different, even from your master."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The words had touched a nerve. Keres was always leery of having her differences pointed out to her.

"Peace, child. When I helped Eragon forge Brisingr, he was still newly changed. In his mind, he still clung to his humanness. As such, I had to take great care in manipulating his body, as it had not yet learned its own strength. His mind and body were not quite in tune. With you, you have always been like this. Your mind grew up in a body that possessed speed and strength far greater than that of any normal human. You are aware of your abilities, thus I can more accurately control your limbs."

Setting down the last of the tools, Rhunön had Keres pick up a large hammer and a pair of tongs. "We will begin now. Think what you will, but do not address me directly. The making of such a sword is complicated and I must be able to focus." Without hesitating, she reached into the forge, with the tongs, and withdrew several, metal rods. They glowed cherry red with the heat from the forge and, as she laid the upper part of the rods on the anvil, she felt the heat rolling off them in waves. Then her arm moved, lifting the hammer and bringing it down on the rods. A flurry of sparks flew into the air and the ring of metal on metal filled the workspace. Keres barely managed to suppress a shiver. The forging of her sword had begun.

Almost immediately, the elf-woman began to chant. At first, it was mostly tuneless, though the tone of the words rose and fell with the rhythmic pounding of the hammer. Keres turned the metal rods, hammering them together into one, solid whole. It was a surreal experience, to see her hands moving so swiftly and deftly, to feel the deliberate strokes of the hammer, but to have no idea why her limbs were moving so. It was strange, to simultaneously be an onlooker and part of the action. After what could have been 15 minutes or an hour, they had forged welded the rods together into a single piece of metal.

The first hammer was laid aside as Keres thrust the metal back into the flames. Her right arm reached out and plucked a second hammer from the table, this one slightly smaller and lighter. When the metal once again glowed brightly, she pulled it from the forge and laid it back against the anvil. Rhunön's chant suddenly shifted, the words coming slightly faster as Keres felt a portion of her magic flow into the hammer in her right hand while another sliver of energy vanished into the depths of the heated metal. Despite being fairly fluent in the Ancient Language, Keres did not understand all of the spells that Rhunön cast. She suspected that many of the words were more archaic and specific than what she used. There were a few fragments that she was able to puzzle out, enough to know that the elf-smith was weaving a spell of strength and endurance and balance. Still, she at least recognized the tune. It was popular in many of the old ballads. Without really meaning to, she began to hum a countermelody. A series of runs and trills now decorated the space in between each stroke of the hammer. Her softer, higher voice provided a harmony for the smith's rougher, lower pitched tone.

"Don't hum child." Rhunön snapped, using Keres' arm to strike another blow against the hot metal. "Sing if you must, or be silent. But do not hum. It's a waste of good music."

For a moment, Keres was taken aback, but she quickly recovered herself. It would not do to sing a nonsense song during the forging of her blade. What she sang needed to have meaning. It would affect the magic that she was lending to the sword. What did she want from this blade? Those should be the emotions the song should feature. She wanted elegance and grace and beauty. She wanted strength and speed. Above all else, however, she wanted her sword to be regal. It should be everything she aspired to be herself.

Casting her mind about for a suitable ballad which used the melody, Keres came upon one of her favorites and she began to sing. It was the story of Krisi, the goddess of storms and chaos who was worshiped by the first humans to set foot in Alagaësia. It began with her birth during a furious battle between Urano, the god of the sky, and Thallis, god of the sea. Where they had fought, a maelstrom had opened up and from it had risen Krisi, garbed in a dress of shimmering sea-foam. She rebuked them for fighting so and, in penance, each offered up a portion of his power to her. So strong were the powers she was given, that the maelstrom remained, and took the name of her sacred animal, becoming the Boar's Eye. Krisi, with her night-black hair, silver eyes, and glistening dress, had quickly established herself amongst the pantheon of the gods.

Many years after her birth, a long and bloody battle broke out between the two gods of war. Atmor, the god of bloodshed and death, fought against his brother, Agnosi, the god of battle strategy and heroes. The battle raged for years before the other gods finally intervened. They sent Krisi to the field, where she walked amongst the warring armies. Immediately, chaos fell over the battlefield. Amidst the wind and rain, war dogs turned on their masters and blades buried themselves in friend rather than foe. Her glance sent men fleeing in terror and the touch of her hand set them spiraling into madness, for no mortal could endure the touch of a god. She danced amongst the warriors, sowing terror and discord wherever she went. In minutes, the battle ceased, with both sides suffering heavy losses.

Enthralled by her powers, both brothers approached Krisi, each beseeching her to marry him. Realizing that such an alliance might forestall further bloodshed, she agreed to a contest. In three years, each would come to her palace at Nia and present her with a gift. The one whose gift she favored most would become her husband. Atmor journeyed to the far north in search of his gift, to the realm of Choni, goddess of ice, snow, and visions. For his gift, Agnosi journeyed to the burning land of Lomeno, the god of smiths, fire, and stoneworking. For the years that the brothers were away on their quest, war was absent from the face of the earth. The other gods used this time to heal the wounds of the world. The barren fields where so much blood had been shed now bore emerald cloaks of grass dotted with bright flowers. Men prospered in the era of peace and their numbers grew.

When the day of the contest finally came, the two brothers arrived at Nia to present their gifts. Krisi had entreated the other gods to bear witness to the contest, that all might hear her decision and ensure the fairness of her choice. Atmor went first, presenting Krisi with a beautiful necklace made of ice crystals. Her heart was moved by the gift, for she was a woman who loved beautiful things. She named the necklace Hail, and allowed Atmor to fasten it around her neck. Then Agnosi stepped forward. With gloved hands, he presented Krisi with a bow unlike any other in existence. Its frame was made of a white light so brilliant, it dazzled all who dared to look upon it. When she tested the string, it loosed a sound like the rumbling of an avalanche. And Krisi named it Lightening, for with every shot, it brightened the land for miles around.

Lifting both her hands, Krisi declared Agnosi the winner. For, she told his brother, no rose should be without its thorns, lest it be abused and taken for granted. Agnosi had offered her a bow that not even he could wield with his bare hands. He had offered a thorn to the rose, knowing that it could prick him as easily as any man. For that decision, she would accept Agnosi as her husband. Atmor was furious and sought another battle in which to exact his revenge against his brother. But Krisi intervened. Armed with Hail and Lightning, she summoned a storm unlike any that had come before it. The shards of Hail pummeled the armies of Atmor and Lightening struck fear into their hearts, sending them cowering into the night. When the war ended, Krisi and Agnosi were wed and from their union had come Gia, the goddess of peace, order, and justice.

It was an ancient legend, a nothing more than a myth, but Keres thought the idea of order and peace coming out of chaos was a powerful one. That something good could come from something bad was a comforting thought, especially for Keres. Galbatorix, twisted and wicked though he had been, had unwitting set up the foundation of the current empire. The roads he had built, the cities he had fortified, even some of the laws he had passed, had allowed the current government to provide for and protect the people of Alagaësia. He had been necessary, she decided. Many of those laws could never have been passed with the current form of government. It would be impossible to get each of the cities to agree. Only Galbatorix and his tyranny could have forced those laws into reality. So yes, evil, but a necessary evil.

"Keres"

The young girl blinked. She was still standing inside the forge. However, it was currently lit with a sullen, red glow that did not come from the flames.

The answer to her unasked question came from without as Rhunön spoke. "It is morning?"

"Morning?!" Suddenly aware that she was back in control of her own body, Keres looked around. A cloth lay over the anvil, a single bulge in the center marking where the sword now lay. Outside, the sun was beginning to peak over the mountains. The first, ruddy rays of dawn revealing Vikonyx sleeping peacefully at the edge of the cleaning. Rhunön stood a few paces behind her. The smith was calmly cleaning the tools that they had used, carefully examining each before returning it to its proper place. It was only after she had registered all of this that Keres realized how tired she was. Her arms felt as though they were filled with lead and her shoulders ached from the repeated hammering. Her knees trembled beneath her. Looking to the elf-woman, Keres asked, "Did I fall asleep?"

"Sleep? Do you honestly think I would have let you sleep while we forged?" The woman snorted. "No, what you were was closer to hypnotized than anything else. A trance would be the most apt description. Do you remember the process?"

Keres thought for a moment. She had vague memories of the hours, though she recalled them as seconds. It felt like a daydream, though she was well aware that it was not. Finally, she answered. "I do . . . not very clearly, but I remember."

The woman nodded. "I don't know where you went, child, but would that all of our singers could go there. Perhaps then I might attend more of our celebrations." She frowned, squinting at the young rider. Then waved her hand, "Go home child. Return here tomorrow morning to receive your blade." Without another word, she turned and strode back into the forge.

Keres watched her go, confusion and exhaustion clouding her usually sharp mind.

"Are you alright?" Vikonyx had awoken and was now staring intently at her rider. "What happened? I called and called for you and you did not answer. Where did you go?"

_I wish I knew. I mean, I was here, I know I was here. I remember being here and forging the sword. But I was somewhere else too. It's . . . it's difficult to explain. _She walked over to the dragon, leaning heavily against the armored muzzle.

"But you are well?"

_Yes, just tired._

"That is good. I will carry you back to Cieráed. You must rest. You've done a lot tonight."

It felt as though it took her hours to reach the saddle and climb into it. With each passing second, exhaustion weighed down on her more heavily. Even the act of strapping herself in felt like a battle. She was asleep almost before they left the ground. And she dreamed. She dreamed of a woman who stood atop a mountain and summoned a storm with a wave of her hand.


	30. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The vast majority of Thane's reconnaissance was uneventful. What information he did gather was usually idle gossip. A large portion of that gossip was focused around Governer Cianthral and who she might currently be dating or whether or not she was actually a man. The main evidence for the latter was her steely resolve and extraordinary ability to govern. Thane couldn't help but smile at that. _If they had met even half the women in Vrenbana, they would not think her strange. _

"The women in Vrenbana were invited there for a reason." Evaríncel had pointed out. "Even those born there were raised by women that Eragon invited. Strong females breed strong females. That is true in any species."

Deciding that he would have the best luck if he cast a wide net, Thane had spent hours sitting in the corners of various bars and taverns. Always he had purchased a drink, so as not to look suspicious; however it had always been the cheapest, weakest ale which had been the easiest to convert into water. It would do him no good if he got drunk while on reconnaissance. A quick spell had enhanced his hearing enough to where he could hear every conversation going on within the building, but again, most of it was prattle. Sure, there were a few interesting items buried in the nonsense: whispers of discontent in Melian, news of a pirate ship spotted off the coast near Teirm, even mutterings of a Sagasir near Aroughs.

The only useful piece of information, however, came from his last stop. He was hunkered down in the corner of a small, quaint little tavern named the Sleeping Bear. He had a cool tankard of ale in front of him that was of a much higher quality than most he had experienced that day. It was so good, in fact, that he had elected not to transform it, both because of the taste and because it would have been much more difficult than the previous beverages. He was mere minutes from calling it quits and heading out to meet Noratvog when the faintest snatch of conversations wormed it way into his ear.

"I'm telling you, they're not just stories. I ran into one of those nomad tribes when I was on the way here." His interest peaked, Thane glanced around, finally locating the speaker. The man, who was wearing a travel-stained cloak and a worn boots, was talking animatedly to his companion as they made their way from the door, toward the bar. "They were a good lot, traded with me, offered me shelter for the night, all that stuff. But while I was staying there, something attacked them. I didn't get a good look at it, but whatever it was, it was huge and furry. Musta been nearly 10 feet tall! I'm serious! You know that . . . " The man fell silent as he and his companion were jostled by a crowd of people moving in the opposite direction.

The rat-faced companion snorted. "Come off it Ani. You sure you didn't just get too much of their berry-brew in ya?"

"I'm serious!" The man named Ani responded. "I saw it! Was absolutely terrifying it was."

"Well," Evaríncel growled, "that sounds like the most promising lead we've had all day."

_Assuming he's not already drunk. _

The white dragon snorted, "What do we have to lose?"

_Absolutely nothing but my time. _Thane stood up, grabbing his tankard and heading toward where the men had taken stools in front of the bars. Arya's warnings of twisted creatures had seemed a bit fantastic at the time, however, despite his grumblings to his partner, this sounded like a promising lead. Affecting a slightly drunken stagger, he dropped into an empty seat next to the men.

"He's telling the truth from what I hear." Both men turned to look at him as he took a long, dramatic swig from his tankard. "There's word come down from the Spine that they've got some strange creatures roaming around."

Evaríncel sniffed, "You're usually a bit less coherent when you're drunk. You ramble quite a bit, so perhaps your line of reasoning shouldn't be so direct."

Ani seized on Thane's words. "Yes! I heard them too! But I didn't believe them. Not until I saw it."

Thane nodded sagely, remembering to hiccup slightly as he did so. "Sounds like a good story. I'll buy ya a drink if you'll tell it. Could use a good story today."

"No!" Evaríncel broke in, "We don't want him drunk. Then he won't be able to tell the story properly and, even if he could, how credible is a story from a drunk man?"

_Evaríncel, it is hard enough to hold a normal conversation with you inside my head. Trying to lie is going to be impossible if you're constantly talking to me in my head._

"Ah, my apologies."

Both men eagerly agreed, even the rat-faced man, whom Ani introduced as his brother, Hale. Thane ordered a round of drinks for each of them, taking care this time to cast a spell that changed the liquid to water when it touched his lips. It took only a few minutes before Ari settled in and began his story.

"I had joined a mercenary group escorting wealthy trader and his caravan up to Gil'ead. He said he was gonna board a ferry there and head north. He had lots of little knick knacks, but a few things that would have been worth a pretty penny to the right buyer. Either way, the trip there went smoothly. We got 'em to the ferry and he paid us, and off we all went. He paid well and I bought myself a horse and started riding back here. It's only the big groups that get attacked. Single riders don't arouse too much interest in the types of bandits out there nowadays. Not enough reward for the risk ya see? Anyways, I got about halfway across the plains when I came on a group of those wandering nomads. Most people don't want anything to do with 'em, but they're a good lot. Resupplied me with food and water and let me rest a few days."

He took another swallow from his tankard and continued. "Well, I noticed right off that something was wrong. Camp was kind of quiet. Kids everywhere, but not running around or playing. They all stayed in the house and the women looked nervous. I finally got some of the men talking around the campfire. They spoke of attacks, not on them, but on other tribes. It started with animals, cows, horses, and pigs, and then the attacks started to target humans." Ani shuddered, "They didn't want to talk about it much. They said that discussing it would bring the beast. I don't know if that's true, but it sure came all the same."

He fell silent for a moment, staring into the tankard as if he saw something horrifying in the reflection there. He downed along long quaff, as if trying to bolster his courage, and then continued. "That night, I heard the screams. I didn't get a good look at it or nothing. But I managed to catch a glance by the light of the watch-fires. Big, it was, stood taller than any man I'd ever seen. Grey fur, like a wolf, but patchy and dull. And the limbs were rangy-like, skinny and long. I tell ya, was the scariest thing I've ever seen, and you can set that in stone."

Hale broke in, his drink already gone, "There've been stories of strange creatures since before the Empire was formed. Water imps in the streams and lakes, giant, ship-smashing serpents in the seas, wraiths hiding in the barrows, none of these are new ideas. But where is the proof that they actually exist? The tales trickle in from some traveler every few years, but nothing more. They're just stories."

"We've got lizards that grow bigger than a house, but can fly and breathe fire." Ani protested, "Are we really going to discount something just because it sounds implausible? Even when there are eyewitnesses?"

"Lizards?!" Evaríncel's snarl was so loud that Thane actually winced. His partner was remarkably even-tempered for a dragon, but, true to his breed, he was exceptionally proud. Even the children in Vrenbana were taught at an early age that dragons did not enjoy being referred to as lizards, serpents, snakes with wings, or, as Thane had heard one unfortunate man term them, "oversized salamanders." Thane could still hear the man's screams as Saphira and Halastair had played a rather cruel game of catch a couple hundred feet in the air. Only Eragon's intervention had prevented them from flying him over the mountains to drop him into the ocean. As it was, he had taken dive from a significant height into Lake Miraloft.

_They don't know any better._ Thane responded, desperate to quickly placate his partner. _Only the governors and royals even know you all can talk. They see you like you see . . ._ He snapped the thought off, suddenly aware that his words would likely only anger the dragon more.

There was a tense silence before Evaríncel spoke. "You were about to say horses, weren't you?"

_No_

"I'm in your head. You can't lie to me."

_Well it's true. Humans are notorious for believing that all other animals are stupid. You can't hold it against them if they just haven't been taught better._ The white dragon let out a soft growl, but Thane could feel his outrage softening. His partner was, above all, logical. This meant that he was much easier to reason with than any other dragon Thane had ever met.

Satisfied that the matter had been settled, Thane returned his attention to the two men, who were still arguing. Realizing that he would not get much more information out this source, Thane slammed his tankard down on the bar. The noise drew their attention and, in the heartbeat of silence that followed, Thane broke in. "Now, gentlemen, whether or not we believe the tale is true, can we not at least agree that it was a fine tale? There is merit in that."

Both men agreed, though Hale did so grudgingly. After purchasing another round for the two men, Thane excused himself, complaining loudly of a nagging wife at home. It was only after he was out in the street that he dropped the drunken swagger and began to walk quickly toward the outer gate. The sun was already halfway toward the horizon and he didn't fancy being forced to talk the road in the dark. Not that he wasn't capable of defending himself, but it seemed a better plan to avoid needless danger. Also, it would now be between the two busiest times of the afternoon. Those who had a long journey back, and who had likely spent the previous night in the city, would have left much closer to noon in order to ensure that they were well on their way before dark fell. Those who lived closer wouldn't leave until later, nearer to sunset.

The guards had been changed, which was good because it meant that he wouldn't have to show his purchases to the man he had spoken to that morning. He gave his name to the new set of guards, who checked him off the list. That done, he set off down the road, taking care to get far out of sight of the walls before veering off toward here his partner waited. Contacting Evaríncel, Thane asked, _So, what do you think of his story?_

"Had he seen the beast alone, I would have been skeptical of it. But why lie about an attack involving an entire tribe of plains nomads? It's simply too easy to debunk."

_You think so? I thought that would make it easier. Even if we find a nomadic tribe and ask, and they say they have seen nothing, he could say that he was with a different tribe. He had no names to identify the tribe he talked about._

"True, but if the beast is as he says, I can't imagine it just preying on one tribe. Once it becomes too dangerous to prey on a single tribe, most wild beasts move on to easier pickings. Also, his description seemed eerily similar to that of the other creatures the riders have hunted. Not a physical similarity, but a similar distortion of normality."

_What do you mean?_

"I spoke to Fírnen extensively while we were in Du Weldenvarden. He told me that we have hunted down 4 such creatures in the last 15 years. He also gave me a detailed description of each hunt and the creature that was killed."

The statement was so matter-of-fact that Thane's mouth almost fell open. _And you didn't think I might be interested to know what you learned?_

Evaríncel's response was surprised. "It wasn't relevant up until this point. You had enough new information to take in as it was. I figured that once you had settled in, I could relay what I know. However, it just became relevant, which is why I brought it up."

His logic was clear and Thane could think of no rebuttal. Struggling to put aside his annoyance at being left in the dark, he answered. _Well, please tell me what you know. _

"I had no intention of upsetting you." Evaríncel said softly.

_I know._

After a few seconds of silence, the dragon spoke again. "The four creatures were all distinctly different and were discovered in very different regions. What remains of them is currently being studied in Du Weldenvarden by the best scholars available. The first, fittingly, came from the spine. The Urgals discovered it when several of their people went missing. Kakirvog and Carnelio were dispatched to investigate. The Urgals had been telling stories of a giant snake for years, but we had never taken them very seriously. That was until Kakirvog stumbled upon the beast gorging itself on the body of another urgal. It was a serpent, a large serpent, but by no means the largest ever discovered. However, it was armored like an alligator, with hard, thick scales running the entire length of its body, excepting on the stomach. It had fans on its head which could retract or expand. However, most importantly, it had long, curved fangs that released corrosive venom. It softened muscle and skin to the point where its prey could be easily ingested.

A strange, deer-like creature was found a few years later in Surda. Of all the creatures, it was the only one that the riders discovered by accident. Inna and Chryssa were patrolling the area and were camped down for the night when they were attacked by the creature. She described it as a being like a deer, but with several, bony protrusions on its body. She said it looked like the bones of the spine were growing through the skin starting at the base of the skull and running to the base of the tail, creating a bony ridge along the neck and back. She described a similar phenomena near the knees, hocks, and fetlocks, as well as a ridge of spines that ran down both sides of the nose and culminated in a single, horn-like structure on the tip of the nose. All of this, of course, was in addition to the usual horns. Chryssa mistook it for an ordinary deer at first and I'm told that the spines were sharp enough to pierce the roof of her mouth. In the end, she only managed to kill it by breathing fire and roasting it. Because of this, it was the specimen that we know the least about.

The third creature was discovered near the eastern edge of the Hadarac Desert. It had been preying on the livestock of the nearby farmers, and had done enough damage that the Riders were finally called in. The creature's body structure resembled that of a scorpion, but instead of being sand-colored, the body was reflective, like a piece of polished metal. When hidden in bushes or sand, it was nearly invisible. Each of its six legs were tipped with a sharp point that could pierce flesh and, instead of pincers, it's front bore two small arms with hook-like protrusions. Where scorpions had only one tail, this creature had three, each of which could deliver a paralytic venom that would hold its prey still while the creature ate. Arya and Fírnen dispatched this creature themselves. It wasn't large, about the size of a small dog, but they said that the venom was more than enough to put a horse on its rump, let alone a human.

The final, and most recent creature, was found in the Beor Mountains. The dwarves reported a bear of unnatural appearance and, taking no chances, Eragon sent Rok and Rhyolite to investigate. They returned with the carcass of a bear unlike any we had previously encountered. The creature had some sort of horn-like growths on its back which were in the process of growing together to form a solid plate. The same was occurring on the stomach and abdomen was well as on the arms, legs, and head. It was almost as if the bear were growing a suit of armor on its body. That was about four years ago that it was killed. But since then, we've had only vague reports of such creatures, no concrete evidence." The white dragon finished.

_Well, I suppose the creature Ani mentioned certainly does sound similar. But if we haven't been able to substantiate any claims of these creatures in the last few years, is there any chance that Eragon will let us investigate this?_

"We can get proof. These clans might be able to provide enough information for us to track down this creature. If we can get eyewitness accounts, then there will be no way for Eragon to ignore this."

Thane thought for a few minutes, digesting everything that he had heard. Finally, he voiced the question that had slowly formed in his mind. _If we do find evidence of this creature, would you be willing to hunt it?_

The response came more swiftly than he had expected, and with more conviction. "Yes. If this thing is really harming the plainsmen, then there can be no question of allow it to live. It is one thing for a creature to protect itself and its kin. It is completely another for a creature to unnecessarily attack other creatures. It disrupts the natural balance of things. That cannot be allowed." When Thane didn't respond, Evaríncel continued. "But do not allow this to trouble you right now. First we must return to Sunvarda and relay our findings." Thane nodded, glad, for the first time in his life, that he was not the one who would decide how best to act on those findings.


	31. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The following day felt as if it took years to pass. Luckily, as her sudden promotion had seemed to surprise everyone (except Rhunön), she had already accepted a job that took up a large chunk of the afternoon. During her few short years with her mother, Keres had learned a great deal about herbs and herbal remedies. She kept her own small herb garden in one corner of the larger garden kept by the Riders. In her spare time, she would sit at her desk and mix concoctions for maladies of all kinds. Some were remedies her mother had taught her. Others were the results of her extensive studies. Most of what she made ended up in the healing house of Thralmurdras.

Today, her job was to mix medicine for one of the chief healers. Several of the farmers at Graenfell had come down with high fevers. The worst of these had been moved to Thralmurdras, where the best healers resided. As she never felt right taking herbs from the healing house, Keres had dipped into her own stores for the ingredients she needed. She had then spent nearly an hour over a several kettles of boiling water. She had combined several known fever reducers, namely elderberry, yarrow, and peppermint, into an herbal tea. The peppermint was, admittedly, more so that the mixture would be somewhat pleasant than for any real value. The elderberry and yarrow, however, were known to induce sweating, which would help bring down the body's temperature.

She had then spent the next several hours administering the medicine. Several of the patients had seemed to be on the edge of delirium. Those who had been the worst off had left her feeling an overwhelming frustration that she could not do more. It was impossible to cast a spell without knowing what to fix. She had no way of determining the cause of their ailment. Sickness wasn't like a broken bone or a cut. The cause of the distress was hidden, and thus, impossible to correct with magic.

She had nearly scrubbed herself raw during her bath that night, eager to ensure that whatever was ailing the villagers did not take hold of her. Vikonyx had spent much of the day hunting in the mountains, returning only after the sun was down. As Keres had stepped out of her bath, reaching for the towel that hung beside the basin, Vikonyx spoke. "You have grown, heart-sister."

_You're one to talk. You do remember what size you were when we met?_

"Yes, but it is not the same. With a dragon, the change is mostly in size. We remain the same in regards to proportion and appearance, we simply grow larger. Humans change their entire appearance."

Keres raised an eyebrow, wrapping her towel around herself. _What prompted this line of thought?_

The black dragon shifted, her eyes narrowing to slits. "As of tomorrow, you will be a Dragon Rider. We will be Dragon Riders. It is proof that we are no longer children, that we are being recognized as adults."

_I don't think the physical changes matter so much in that regard. _Keres responded, toweling off her dripping hair. _It is possible to have the look of an adult and the mentality of a child. Being an adult is more about maturity than anything else. Though, admittedly, I don't know how much of that I have. _She added with a smile. _But if Eragon and Rhunön think me ready, I will do my best to live up to their expectations. _

Vikonyx chuckled, "Was that wisdom? I guess you really have grown, both physically and mentally. That is what I find so strange about humans. I cannot recall a time when, mentally, I was not as I am now. I learned quite a bit, but dragon personalities do not change as humans do. When you were young, you were arrogant. At times, you still are, but those are few and far between. You are now humble and, I must admit, at times rather likable."

_Well thank you. I am pleased to know that I am likable. _

"More importantly, you look like a lady now. For a while, I wondered if I wouldn't be cursed with a child rider for eternity. What would people think? A scrawny, lanky girl on the back of a mighty dragon, it even sounds ridiculous."

_Was that supposed to be a compliment? Because if so that was as backhanded as they come. _

Vikonyx snaked her head forward, nudging Keres off balance as the girl balanced, one-legged, and pulled on her trousers. "I only meant that you have the body of a woman now. And, from what little I can tell, one that is not unattractive to males of your species."

_Oh you can tell can you?_

"Yes. Human pheromones are among the most pungent odors that I have ever encountered. How you cannot smell them is beyond me."

_Okay, can we stop talking about this now?_

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"

_You know it does. _

"I do not see why. Your new form is pleasing, or so I assume. However, if you wish, I will find something else to talk about."

_I do wish. _Keres said, pulling back the covers of her bed and sliding between the sheets. However, she didn't extinguish the lantern that hung within arm's reach. There was silence between them for a second before she finally said. _What do you think it will look like?_

There was no need to explain what she was talking about. Vikonyx snorted, "Do you not remember the shape of it?"

Keres frowned, _Not really. I just remember the pounding of the hammer. Like I said, that trance or whatever it was that happened to me, rendered me completely oblivious to everything else. It was like . . . like I the story I was singing was actually happening in front of me . . . like it was a play I was watching. _She looked up at the dragon. _Could you not see it?_

Vikonyx snorted. "Only afterwards, and only as it appeared in your memory. While it was happened, I felt nothing from you."

_That is strange. _

"Mmm, I've found that experiencing strange things is just a normal part of being your partner." The dragon shot back, though her tone was clearly affectionate. "You are a unique individual. Strange things happened around you even before we were bonded, and strange things always happen around dragons and riders. We are in for an interesting life." The dragon yawned, showing a full array of pointed teeth. "But it can wait until tomorrow."

Keres had heartily agreed and was asleep within minutes of blowing out the lights. This time it was a new nightmare that plagued her. She stood on a high hill, watching a battle rage far below her. The clash of swords and armor rose was deafening even from this distance. The combatants were faceless, featureless shadows that screamed and bled and died. Keres didn't understand. Who was fighting? Why were they fighting? Why was she here? The shrieks of the wounded and dying hovered over the field like a noxious gas and sent chills down her spine. Off to the east, the sea was riddled with ships. More warriors were massed on each deck, fresh bodies ready to join the fray on the plain. Somewhere, deep down, she knew that this was a battle she had started. She was the cause of all this destruction, all this bloodshed.

"I have to stop this. How can I stop this?"

Then came the voice; a horrible, mocking voice that she hadn't heard in nearly sixteen years. "Foolish child, you cannot stop this. Things are already in motion."

"KERES WAKE UP!"

She bolted upright, her eyes snapping open as her hand instinctively went to the dagger she kept beneath her pillow. The room was completely dark. She could see nothing.

_Vikonyx?_

"I am here." A shadow, darker than even the darkness of the room, moved a few feet in front of her. A moment later, she felt a gust of hot breath wash over her. "Are you alright?"

"I heard her. She was in my dream. Why was SHE in my dream?" It was only after the words were out that Keres realized she was screaming frantically.

An armored nose touched her breastbone, "Easy, heart-sister. She is gone. You are here, and so am I. You are alright."

Keres leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the bony ridge on her partner's forehead. Her ran her trembling hands over the smooth, familiar scales. After a few moments, her breathing and heart rate slowed. As the moments passed, the horror of the dream began to fade. After a while, she chuckled weakly. _Not a terribly good day to have that kind of nightmare, huh?_

"Or perhaps the best day, since you won't be dwelling on it for long." Vikonyx pulled her head back, "You need to get up. We have to be at Rhunön-elda's before the sun breaches the mountains."

Keres glanced out the window. Contrary to what she had first thought, there was, in fact, a faint glow outlining the jagged peaks. "Barzul!" She swore aloud, throwing off the covers and vaulting out of bed. Within moments, she had shimmied out of her nightclothes and was pulling on a freshly laundered tunic. It was one of her favorites, a black outfit that fell nearly to her knees. She belted it around her midriff and pulled on a pair of black boots. As she splashed her face with water from the bowl near the tub, Vikonyx rose to her feet and stretched.

"Will you eat before we go?"

_No, we don't have time. I can't be late or Rhunön might actually kill me. Or worse, she might not give me my sword._

There was a rustle of leathery wings and the black tail twitched in amusement. "Well, I'm glad to see that you have your priorities in line." Keres didn't even take the time to put the saddle on her dragon. Muttering a spell to protect her legs, she vaulted up onto the crook of her partner's leg before settling just behind a large spike. Though the spell mimicked the effect of a blanket between her and the scaled hide, Keres could feel the heat emanating from within the black body. She lay down, pressing herself as flat as she could against glistening body of her partner.

In the pre-dawn light, Vikonyx' scales glinted with every color imaginable. As close as she was, Keres could see the small refractions of light that shone off each individual scale. She had always thought that her dragon was the most beautiful she had ever seen. Now, the familiar beating of wings and deep, even breaths that swelled the body between her legs calmed her. She had been flying with Vikonyx since the black dragon had been old enough to ride. Initially, the rise and fall of flying dragonback had terrified her, as had the swift accents and terrifying acrobatics her partner reveled in. Now, flying was as natural to her as breathing. Everything seemed small when you rode a dragon. Pointless worries and needless stress all fell away. Here, within the clouds, she was untouchable.

"Are you better now?"

_Yes. Still a bit shaken, but I am better. Give me a few hours and it will fade. They usually do. _

"Did this nightmare feel like the others?"

_No._ Keres closed her eyes, recalling the emotions and sensations of the dream. _It was more . . . real. Usually I can only describe one or two senses. Like how something looks and feels. Like water being clear and cold or fire being bright and hot. This was different. I could see, but I could also hear and feel and taste and smell. I could hear the screams. I could feel the tremors in the ground. I could taste the smoke. And I could smell . . . _She broke off for a moment, trying to find the words to describe the stench. _I could smell war. It smelled like spilled blood and death and burning flesh. _

Even now, her nose wrinkled and her stomach churned at the memory. _I always loved hearing Eragon tell me about his battles in the Rider War. Now I understand why he was so hesitant. It was terrifying. _

Vikonyx tilted her head, rolling a single, black eye back to glance at her. "Does that disturb you?"

_Of course!_

"Then that feeling, in and of itself, should give you courage." The dragon snorted. "If you were aghast at the loss of life, at the scale of the massacre, then it proves that you are not what Eragon feared you were. More importantly, it proves that you are not what you fear you are."

The pair lapsed into silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Keres was so distracted that it startled her when Vikonyx lurched downward, beginning a spiraling decent toward Gjera Lake. Glancing over her side, Keres saw a single, figure standing alone on the bank. In that moment, all of the excitement she had felt when she first found out she would be getting her sword returned. This was it! This was what she had been training for since Eragon had first accepted her as his apprentice. In spite of the morning's events, she couldn't help a wide grin from breaking over her face.

Vikonyx landed, sending ripples across the water. Keres slid from her back, eyes locked on the figure that had left the bank to move out in front of the forge. A table, one that had not been there the last time Keres had visited, sat in the open. The wood was old and worn, singed in some places from the heat it was frequently exposed to. And on it lay a package. The package was long and thin and wrapped in a silken black cloth that gleamed in the early morning light.

Rhunön stood behind the table. As the young dragon and rider approached, she was perfectly still. As they neared, Keres realized the smith was not looking at them. Though she stared at a point somewhere between them, her eyes were faraway, as if she were seeing something totally different. Even when the pair came to a halt in front of the table, she didn't seem to notice them.

_Should I say something?_

"No, wait for the elf-smith to speak." Vikonyx rolled a single, black eye in the direction of her rider. "She knows we are here, though she does not show it."

It was nearly five minutes before Rhunön finally drew a breath and began to speak. "I have made many swords in my day. There has never been a Rider's blade that was not born on my anvil and shaped by my hammer. And I have found that, since we began using the forging ritual to create the swords, they tend to take on the characteristics of their owners. Brisingr, though a beautiful sword, was outwardly ordinary. However, inside, it held a furious power, much like its wielder. Despite its size, Hamarq is quick and surprisingly difficult to block. It suited Tarehlak. By the same token, Hjarnask was a match for Kakirvog in every way. It was large, nearly impossible to stop, and rather dull." Her brow furrowed even further. "The swords reveal the hearts of the Riders. And this sword . . ." she trailed off.

Keres waited silently, feeling her blood run cold. Her mind was buzzing with thousands of possible conclusions to the statement. Perhaps seeing the dismay on her face, Rhunön waved a hand, "Don't look so glum. This sword is just more difficult to decipher than the others." A faint smile touched the corners of her mouth as she added, "That doesn't mean that it is any less impressive." She reached down, untying the leather bands which held the cloth around the sword. "Keres, apprentice of Eragon Shadeslayer, rider of Vikonyx, I present you with your blade." She pulled back the cloth, baring the naked sword to the ruddy glow of the morning sun.

Keres' breath caught. The blade was black, tar black, like the night sky without stars. Had the cloth not been white, it would have been nearly impossible to discern anything about the blade. It was a scimitar, a type of blade that had been made and perfected by the people of desert tribes that lived on the outskirts of the Hadrac Desert. The sharpened edge was a single, sweeping curve. It was a perfect cutting edge, with a thicker blade toward the point that would increase the power of a slash. The backside of the blade was smooth and dull, but at the tip, a single piece of metal jutted backward toward the wielder, created a jagged hook.

The hilt was made of a soft, grey material she had never seen before. As her dark eyes traveled down the length of the blade, they halted on the gem embedded in the hilt. She had never seen such a stone before. The vast majority of it was as black as the blade itself, but directly in the center was a white, six-pointed star. She brushed her hand over it.

The elf-smith spoke up. "It's an Evarílár, a black star gem. Elves are a people who delight in color, so gems such as this aren't terribly common amongst our people. However, I felt that it fit you well." Rhunön was watching her carefully. Clearly pleased by the apparent delight on the younger female's face, she spoke. "This blade is yours, for as long as there is breath left in your body. However, there is one last task to be completed." She picked up the blade and handed it to Keres, who received it gingerly, still gazing in awe at the sword. "You must tell me the name, so that I can inscribe it in the gem on its hilt, and on its scabbard as well."

Keres let out a long breath, turning the sword this way and that so she could watch the light play of its sharpened edge. She had spent years coming up with possible names for this blade. That it would be black was obvious, so she had come with several names in mind. And yet, somehow, they all seemed woefully inadequate. She had considered Ilumëlár or Black Truth, but that name didn't fit. That name was for a straight-edged blade. Truth was supposed to be a straight-forward concept wasn't it? Lífreon didn't work either. Hidden Honor was a good name, but this sword seemed too . . . too wicked. The thought amused her. The name evoked images of a broadsword or greatsword, not a scimitar. She toyed with Lífreon for a few minutes. Life Reaper. It had a ring to it. However, in light of everything she and Eragon had gone through, it felt wrong to proclaim this blade a killer from the start. Dragon Riders weren't meant to kill. They enforced the law and upheld justice. If killing occurred, then it was an unfortunate consequence of the job, but not the desired result. No, Lífreon wouldn't work either.

And then a name came to her. It was a word she had only ever seen once, and then only as a single entry in one of the compendiums she had been working in. It had not been one of those that Eragon had instructed her to learn, so it surprised her that she even remembered it. She had been scrolling down the page, looking for a different word when her finger had brushed over it. The word hadn't particularly caught her attention, but now it just felt right. It fit this sword. More importantly, it fit _her_.

Rotating her wrist so that the blade glinted in the morning light, she whispered, "Skraván."

A harsh, barking laugh startled Keres for a moment. Then she realized that it was Rhunön. The elf smith was laughing. Finally, the woman snorted, "That is as apt a name as ever a blade was given."

"Skraván?" Vikonyx asked. "What does that mean?"

Keres' smile broke into a wide, delighted grin as she took a swift, practice swing and felt the blade glide through the air. "It means sever."


	32. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

As it turned out, Arya had been tracking reports of the creature for quite some time. This was, however, the first time the Riders had managed to get a first-hand account. He had sat before the two enchanted mirrors, one showing an image of Arya, the other of Eragon, and recited the story as best he could remember. They had asked several questions, most of which he could only answer with speculation. Initially, he had hoped that they would discuss their next move in front of him. However, after praising him for his work, they had both severed the magical connection through the mirrors. Thane couldn't help but be disappointed.  
"We've only been Riders for a few months. You can't expect them to include us in their decision." Evaríncel protested. The dragon was currently holed up in his cave, tearing at the carcass of a large buck.

_I know._ Thane grumbled, striding down the steps of the tower and toward the dining area. _Still, I'd hoped they might at least ask my opinion. _

"They did. They asked if you thought Ari was trustworthy."

_No, not that. I mean ask my opinion on what we should do._ The last four words came haltingly as it dawned on him what the dragon was pointing out.

"So you had hoped that Eragon Shadeslayer, the Head Dragon Rider and killer of the Mad King, and Arya Shadeslayer, the Queen of the Elves, would ask for your advice on what their next move should be?" Was it his imagination, or did the white dragon actually sound amused?

Thane ground his teeth together, feeling a flush rising in his cheeks. _Point taken. _

Downstairs, Nortavog had just re-entered after roasting a large deer over the open pit in front of the fortress. Her bright, yellow eyes narrowed, "Did you inform Arya-elda of what you learned?"

"Yes, but she wasn't terribly surprised by it." Thane admitted.

Nortavog chuckled in the low, choking way her race always did. "She is Queen of the elves and a senior rider, did you expect to bring her new information in your first week?" When Thane looked abashed, she laughed again, "It's the same with all young Dragon Riders. They get here expecting to do something amazing within their first year. I'm afraid the truth is far more mundane. It takes years before we're experienced enough to find anything Arya hasn't heard of first. Though, admittedly, we have a bit more luck down here. We get to visit some of the smaller, more rural areas. There's usually something interesting going on there that hasn't made it back to the ears of the elves."

She opened one of the roughly made cabinets that sat against the wall and removed three plates, tankards, and sets of metal silverware. "So, tell me about the apprentices we have in training. According the Eragon, we have one of our largest classes currently in Vrenbana."

"We do." Thane was so eager to accept this change of subject, he spoke a little more quickly than he had intended. "When I left, we had six riders currently in training. I know there are at least four more in training right now."

"You said six currently in training. You expect someone to have graduated since you left?" It was an honest question. Eragon usually attempted to make sure that Riders entered and left the program as a `group. It meant that they would always have training partners and that, when they graduated, there would be people to make the trip back with them.

Thane shrugged his shoulders, "There's one apprentice there, she was actually already in Vrenbana when I got there with my group. She's Eragon's apprentice."

"Ah, the White-Eye." For some reason, the comment irked him.

"Her name is Keres."

Perhaps he had spoken more forcefully than he had intended, for the female urgal gave him a sideways glance, "But she is the one they call White-Eyes, is she not?"

"Well yes, but it seems a bit . . . uncouth to refer to someone solely by their physical features."

Nortavog raised an eyebrow, "I've found that it happens in every culture. Redbeard, Longshanks, One-eye, Brightscales, every species occasionally names an individual based solely on their physical appearance. It isn't a slight against her. It just means that she hasn't done anything worth remembering yet. Though, if her apprenticeship to Eragon is any indication, there will be plenty to remember her by."

Thane snorted, "You're not lying. I didn't know her terribly well. Eragon kept her away from the rest of us. She didn't really come in with a group, so he and Saphira trained her separate from the rest of the apprentices. Vikonyx, that's the dragon, is the only black dragon I've ever seen. As far as I know, she's the first since Shruikan. I don't know too much about her, but Evaríncel says that she can outfly Saphira. Keres I've only spoken to on occasion. I trained with her on a few times though. I've never faced such a competent swordsman. Master Maira said that if Eragon and Keres actually fought, she's be hard pressed to say who would win. She's like Eragon, you know? Well, she doesn't look like him. She looks normal, like a regular person. But she moves like him and she can use magic like he can. Given some of the assignments Eragon puts to her, I'd be surprised if she wasn't one of the most competent magic users in our order."

"Can you come outside and help me bring this deer in? I'd do it myself, but Tarehlak complains that I get hair in the food when I throw it over my shoulder." Nortavog flashed a brilliant grin. Uncertain of if she was joking or not, Thane could only chuckle. He followed her outside and grabbed one of the long, metal rod that skewered the meat. As they gingerly carried it back into the dining area, she asked, "What kind of assignments?"

"Oh, I don't know about many of them. I only hear about the ones that are common knowledge." He grunted, setting down the metal rod on the stakes Nortavog had prepared in advance. "He once had her levitate several stones and rotate them in various directions while they dueled with blades. Once she had to bend fire in to the shape of a dragon and make it move. Another time, he had her create illusions of herself and hold them in place for an entire day, but none of them could ever be in the same room."

Grabbing a large knife, Nortavog began to slice the meat into smaller sections. "Those don't sound like the usual Dragon Rider tasks. But, then again, this is Eragon's apprentice we're talking about."

Thane looked up from where he was setting up the table. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? The head dragon rider usually personally trains his replacement. In all likelihood, he's grooming her to be a candidate for the next head rider." The suggestion startled him. Not that he was averse to it. The few times he had spoken to her, Keres had seemed amiable enough and her abilities were clearly not lacking. Still, it was a possibility he had never considered. Nortavog must have seen the look on his face, because she asked, "What, you suspect differently?"

"Well no," he admitted, "I just . . . I guess I never really thought about it that way."

"Oh? And in what way did you think about it?"

This time Thane took a few moments to think before he answered. Why had he never considered that Eragon might be preparing Keres to be a potential leader for the Dragon Riders? She was certainly skilled enough. An answer to the question had popped into his head the moment the urgal had uttered the question, but he was frantically searching for an alternative. When he didn't respond, Nortavog voiced what he had been unwilling to verbalize. "You assumed that he was training her because of what she was, didn't you?"

He hung his head, trying to hide his reddening cheeks from her gaze. "That's what they all said, when we were little. Many of the elves still say it. They say that she's dangerous."

"They also say that she's an abomination and that Eragon should have ended her existence the moment she arrived in Vrenbana. I suppose you believe that as well?"

"No! Well, I did. I mean, at first I believed them. At first, I was afraid of her." The words tumbled out of him like a waterfall, getting twisted and tangled even before they left his tongue. Nortavog had finally finished cutting up their supper and was now studying him with interest.

"And now?"

He paused, taking a long breath to arrange his thoughts before answering. "Like I said, I don't know her very well. But she seems . . . normal. She's eager to please her master and she relishes a challenge. She hates to lose, but so do most people." A series of images flashed across his mind and he sighed, "She has hopes and fears, dreams and nightmares, just like everyone else. I guess . . . that's what it comes down to. When you disregard how she was born, she really is just like the rest of us."

Nortavog nodded, approval clear in her gaze. "I am afraid there were many amongst us who judged to quickly when she first joined the order. But Eragon stood against us, even against Arya, who was dead set on eliminating what she saw as an insult to the natural order. Eragon told us that she was a child, like any other child. Certainly she had gifts, but those gifts were not inherently bad. I think it was her normalness that eventually swayed most of them, at least, that's what I got when I listened to them talk about her. I'm told she was an endearing child."

She portioned out the meat onto three plates, handed one to Thane, and then continued. "In our line of work, you cannot believe what people say about others. Consider it. Analyze what they have said and commit it to memory, but never let that affect how you interact with a person. Even if twenty men tell you that a man is a monster, you must treat him as you would any other man. And you must do the same if twenty men tell you that a man is a saint. I've often found that people get so used to being treated a certain way that they take on the persona that has been assigned to them. If a man is constantly told he is worthless, he will behave as though he is. But treat him like a somebody, and he may just surprise you. Likewise, those accorded sainthood become accustomed to being treated as such. Any lesser degree of respect may bring out a darker side of them. Treat everyone with caution and with respect."

They lapsed into silence, Thane adding some much needed vegetables to his plate while Nortavog tore into the meat she had spent the last few hours preparing. It felt strange, to have received such a lecture after graduating and leaving Vrenbana, but he was glad for it. Perhaps, he reflected, it should not have felt so strange after all. Learning was a lifelong affair. And she had given him several interesting ideas to consider. He felt that her advice about dealing with people would come in particularly handy as he began his new job. It would be up to him to gather a group of informants in each town and win the trust of the local people. That was the only way a Dragon Rider could do his or her job in this day and age. The soldiers or local Magician's Guild could handle the obvious troubles. The worst kinds of troubles were usually the ones that could remain hidden.

His silent reflection was broken by the soft tinkling of a bell. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but could not find it. When he turned to the she-urgal, Nortavog was looking up at the ceiling. "That will be for you."

"What?"

Suddenly realizing he didn't understand, she laughed, "The mirror. That will likely be Arya to tell you what they have decided." When the bell rang again, she gestured with her head toward the door, "I wouldn't keep her waiting, if I were you."

Thane nearly leapt out of his chair. He took the stairs three at a time, making his legs and chest burn as he ascended the winding stair. Finally coming to the room, he threw open the door, stepped inside, and close it quickly behind him.

He was surprised to find Eragon's face staring back at him out of the mirror. He and Nortavog had assumed that it would be Arya who contacted them. That could only mean one thing: he was going to receive his first mission! And from the Head Rider no less! The blue background behind Eragon shifted and Thane suddenly became aware that it was not a background at all, but Saphira. Because of her immense size, it was impossible to tell exactly what part of her he was looking at until a single, massive eye became visible. It was such a strange image that Thane almost laughed, but that wouldn't do in front of the leaders of his order.

"Thane Fiachreson, please sit." The tone this time was official and Thane settled himself on the edge of his chair, doing his best to look calm. Eragon continued, "You have new orders. You and Evaríncel will travel to the plains and track down these nomads who claim to have been attacked by the creature. If you find evidence that this creature exists, then you are authorized to track it down and destroy it. If you believe that this is nothing more than a figment of the imagination, then you are to return to Sunvarda immediately. Either way, before either setting out after the creature or setting out to return to your station, you will report directly to Arya."

Perhaps he had seen the excitement that Thane was struggling to keep off his face because he added, "Do not underestimate this foe, if it truly exists. Any creature bold enough to routinely attack humans will not shy away from a fight. And allow your partner to help you if the situation requires it. As of yet, we have found no creature that can best a dragon in the air. We have put a great deal of effort into training you and Evaríncel. It would be a shame if all that effort were wasted on the first mission." His tone was casual enough, but Thane understood the warning. Training was over. Overconfidence out here, in the real world, would likely get him killed. The thought slightly dampened the excitement that had flared up within him.

"I understand sir. We will do our best."

"We know you will." Eragon nodded. "You have been well trained. This is not beyond your skill." He paused to let the words sink in. Finally he said, "Your comrades will help you prepare. We will expect you to leave Sunvarda before sunset tomorrow." He inclined his head slightly. "Atra ono sálbruni eldrvarya bjart." It was the traditional send-off for a Dragon Rider, the words uttered whenever a Rider left on a mission for the order. May your heart-fire burn bright. It was simultaneously a wish for the departing Rider's good-health and a reminder of to hold fast to the ideals of the order. The heart-fire was believed to be not only the fire of life that burned within each living creature, but also an abstraction. It represented the character of the individual, embodying strength, honor, mercy, resolve, and nobility. These were the traits of the Dragon Riders, the ideals that all members, dragon and human alike, were expected to aspire to.

Thane bowed his head, clasping his arm across his chest with his balled his over his heart. "Thank you, ebrithil." For a moment more, the image in the mirror lingered. Then it faded, leaving Thane staring at nothing more than his own reflection.


	33. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

_Skraván . . . Skraván . . . Skraván_ She spoke the word over and over again in her head, almost in time with the rhythmic bumping of the scabbard against her leg. The blade whistled through the air around her as she moved gracefully through her fighting stances. She had begun slowly at first, making smooth, deliberate motions until she became accustomed to the feel of the blade in her hand. Although she had always heard that Rider Blades just felt different, she had never really understood until now. It was like wielding a switch. Despite its looks, the blade was actually quite light. Even with a slightly longer reach than she had anticipated, she had no trouble controlling the blade. The hilt seemed to glue itself to her hand every time she drew it.

Keres had taken to practicing rather than sitting and waiting for her masters. Eragon and Saphira had left early the previous morning, a fact which had surprised both Keres and Vikonyx. It was traditional for a master to be present when an apprentice returned from receiving their sword. Eragon and Saphira had actually left after the blade had been forged. Still, Keres had always been willing to grant her masters a certain degree of leniency. One had to be patient and understanding when being trained by the Head Rider and Dragon. Since Eragon had sent word that he would be returning at sundown tonight, Keres had decided to forgive him for his earlier absence. That didn't mean, however, that she was just going to wait outside his office. Not when there was a beautiful new sword to practice with.

"I have never heard a sword make such a high-pitched whistle." Vikonyx spoke up from where she was seated at the top of a grassy knoll.

Keres looked over at her partner. They were out behind Cieráed in the shadow of the Fire Mountain, so Vikonyx was a dark blotch against a rapidly darkening landscape. _It's high-pitched, but I can't always hear it. I don't know if that means that it's just a really quiet blade, or if it's so high pitched that I can't hear it._

"I wondered that as well. At any rate, the noise level is definitely a plus. No warning if you have to surprise your prey."

Keres chuckled. _If I need this kind of power for a sneak attack, then I'm already in a bad spot. Still . . ._ She twirled the blade again, listening to the faint, high-pitched sound the blade gave off as air parted along its edge. _It's nice to know that I have the option. _

A roar split the relative silence of the sunset and Keres lifted her head to see what looked like a single, glittering star drop out of the sky to the southwest. Vikonyx raised her head, sending an answering roar thundering across the valley. For what felt like the millionth time, Keres was struck by just how large Saphira actually was. She came down like an avalanche. Her wing beats were like claps of thunder and Keres actually had to cover her ears against the noise.

To her surprise, Eragon slipped off the broad, blue back before his dragon had even landed. He jumped to the ground, moving swiftly over to her. "Well? Let us see it." He was grinning from ear to ear, an expression that she had only ever seen once before on his face. For the first time ever, it crossed her mind that her master looked slightly boyish. There was a strange youthfulness to his obvious excitement that contrasted with his usual, sagely demeanor.

She smiled, quickly unsheathing her blade and offering it, hilt-first, to him. His eyes widened, "A scimitar? I don't believe we have ever had a Rider's blade forged in such a fashion." He tested the balance, his eyes running appraisingly down the length of the blade. "This is a good blade. And it fits you, I think. Equal parts sharp and dull." He cast a glance in her direction that told her he was teasing.

Saphira lowered her head, sniffing the length of the blade before pulling away. "This is a good, strong blade. Its shape is pleasing, like a fang or claw. Though neither of you lack for claws." She added with an amused hum.

Handing it back to Keres, Eragon asked, "What did you name it?"

"Skraván"

He nodded a few times, "Sever . . . it is a good name. And it certainly fits this blade. I'd wager you could take the head off a horse with one good slash."

Keres' brow furrowed, "My only concern is that I won't know what type of cutting power I have until I actually cut a person. In the midst of combat doesn't seem like the right time to test the edge of my blade. However, short of cutting wood or reeds, which hardly befits a Rider's Blade, I can't think of any other way to figure out how much power I really have."

This time it was Saphira who spoke up. "Your concern is a valid one. When you hunt, cleave the meat with your sword. Also, when you hunt, Vikonyx, bring the meat back and allow your rider to test her blade on it. Flesh tasted no different quartered than otherwise. If it should come down to it, do not be concerned with using reeds to test your strength. Better a slight offense given to an inanimate object than to lose an arm or a leg due to a lack of information and practice." Keres bobbed her head a few times, sensing wisdom in the dragon's words. Saphira always made things sound so simple.

Eragon handed the blade back to her. "I am proud of you, Keres. You were a good apprentice; better than any I could have asked for." His smile faltered slightly, "I beg your pardon for our last encounter. I hope that it didn't mar your memories of you apprenticeship."

The apology caught her off guard. "Of course not!" When she saw the skepticism on his face, she waved a hand, "You had no fears that I did not have myself. And, over these many years, you believed in me more than I did." She flashed him her brightest smile. "Besides, you fought for me, when many of the other riders didn't even want me to keep Vikonyx. One little squabble can't erase that."

He raised an eyebrow, "You call that a squabble? Well, if we ever get into a fight, do let me know. I don't expect that I will survive it." He was silent for a moment, and then shook his head. "But, enough celebration. We need to talk."

She blinked, "Aren't we talking now?"

"Not here. Come with me to my study." He looked up at Vikonyx, "Obviously, you will not fit in to my study. Hunt if you need to, and then return to your room. In the morning, you and Keres will accompany Saphira to Vindrvada."

Vikonyx dipped her head, "As you wish." Turning to her rider, the black dragon touched her nose to Keres' forehead. "I go to hunt. I will meet you later tonight."

Keres lifted a hand and rubbed along the dragon's jawbone, "Good hunting sister."

"I will accompany you." Saphira said, flaring her wings. "There are things which we need to discuss as well. Take your time in talks."

Wind blasted the ground as both dragons leapt into the sky. The sound was nearly deafening and both Riders staggered beneath the furious gale. Keres threw up her arms to shield her face from the debris that were launched into the air. Only after both dragons were safely aloft did she lower her arms to watch them go. Saphira was a glistening star in the rapidly darkening sky. A little below her, Vikonyx was a shadow who drifted in and out of sight.

She and Eragon stood, side by side, and watched until the two figures vanished into mountains. It was only then that Eragon turned to her. "Well, let us go as well."

Keres followed him as they began to make their way back to Cieráed. It towered above them like a single, solitary mountain in the midst of the plains. At the very top, the flame-shaped gem was now glowing with a fierce, inner light. The youngest apprentices were tasked with lighting the flame every night so that all in the valley could navigate in the dark. It also gave the Fire Mountain the appearance of a real volcano, a sentiment which Keres had always found to be fitting. It was full of fire; that fire just happened to reside the bellies of several dragons.

Once inside the fortress, Keres and Eragon began to slowly make their way up toward his study. Their ascent was hindered greatly by the large number of people who stopped them or called out to them from the various rooms that they passed. Many of the Riders called out congratulations to Keres and asked to see her new sword. Many of the servants called out to Eragon with questions and concerns that he, as Head Rider, was obligated to address. So frequent were these interruptions that it took nearly 15 minutes for them to reach the final set of stairs that led up to Eragon's living quarters.

It was only then that Keres finally worked up the nerve to ask the question that had been on the tip of her tongue since his arrival. "Master?"

"Hm?"

"If I may, you look . . . happy tonight."

He glanced back at her, "Yes"

Undeterred by this expected lack of explanation, she pressed on. "Is there any reason for it?"

This time he actually chuckled as they rounded yet another corner. "My apprentice has graduated. Is that not enough reason for me to be happy?" When she didn't answer, he laughed again. "I never could fool you, could I?" She smiled back at him and he continued, "Suffice, for now, to say that I have been wrestling with something for quite some time. Now, I have at least the first part of a plan. It's not a whole plan, not even half a plan really, but it is the beginnings of one, and that is a weight lifted off my shoulders. Nothing feels worse than inactivity, and now I have the option of finally doing something."

They reached the highest level of Cieráed, the Head Rider's quarters and Eragon touched the doorknob. As always, he paused before he turned it. No lock could keep out a magic user, but this door was designed to only open at touch of the Head Rider's magic. "After all," Eragon had once joked, "all those doors that open by touch could be opened just by cutting off someone's hand and that's easy enough." Keres had laughed for days. Now though, Eragon quickly pushed his way into the room, holding the door open for her.

She stepped inside, breathing in the familiar smells of parchment and ink. There were two sections to this room: the study, in which she now stood, and the bedroom, which was hidden behind a thick door. The study was filled with books of every shape and size. Paintings hung on the walls amidst several fairths. This was, perhaps, her favorite place in all of Vrenbana.

Eragon strode over to the desk, brushing several scrolls into the various drawers. When he looked up at her, his usual expression had returned. He looked serious, urgent even. "Keres Wild-Heart and Vikonyx, what I am about to say to you must not be repeated to anyone without my express consent. The only other people who know what I am about to tell you are Arya and Tarehlak along with their partners. You may discuss this matter with them and them alone. Do you understand?"

Within her mind, Keres felt Vikonyx interest sharpen. "Tell him we both understand."

Keres nodded. "Yes, ebrithil."

Eragon nodded a few times. "You are aware that there is a land above Alagaësia?"

She nodded, "Of course, Gölrazi, the Land of Lakes. The people are called the Gölraz collectively."

"Correct." He inclined his head. "But what you are not aware of is the current situation in Gölrazi." He spread the map along the table. It was one of the newest editions, a model that showed not only the whole of Alagaësia and Vrenbana, but the lands between as well as a large portion of Gölrazi. "Refugees have been coming across the border near Ceunon. At first it was merely a trickle, but Arya and the elves, along with the people living along the northern reaches of the Spine have begun reporting massive caravans of people moving south." He lifted a finger to trace a line down the western edge of the mountain range. "Their stories were all the same, tales of a large army of ships that suddenly appeared on the horizon. They say that a man named King Rikard Shiverspear led an army from someplace they call the Icebound Land."

"The what?" Keres interrupted.

Eragon shook his head, "We have no idea where this land might be. The best we can say is that it is somewhere to the northwest of Gölrazi. As things tend to get colder the farther north they go, I think it's safe to say this land must be much farther north than anything we have ever encountered." Returning his eyes to the map, Eragon continued, "It appears that this King Shiverspear and his men have . . . appropriated every inch of land they've come across. According to reports, the first group of men to land in Gölrazi was composed of a small fleet of five ships carrying some 200 warriors. The natives dubbed them the Bogerk, for the horned helms that they wore. Initially, they simply settled in a village, but within months, a second fleet of ships arrived, this one 10 ships strong and carrying women and children. The Bogerk drove the native off their land and settled their women and children into the empty farms and houses." He circled a place on the western shore of Gölrazi. "The first group settled here, and our sources said that within the first four years, seven separate fleets of ships landed and more are coming by the day. As more Bogerk arrived, it became necessary to appropriate more and more land for them. They claim that there land was too harsh and cold to make a good living in. For that reason, their king set out to conquer a new land for them." Eragon lifted shadowed eyes to meet her gaze, "And worse . . . they say that he now heads south with an army swelled by the ships he has captured and taken."

"But . . ." Keres whispered, staring down at the map, "if he's heading south with an army that will lead him . . ." She faltered for a moment before words finally caught up with her. "But if you knew about this, why aren't we preparing for war?"

His eyes darkened as he leaned forward, "We are, but this isn't an easy decision. We are pledged to the people of Alagaësia. Because of that, we have had to sit idly by as thousands of Gölrazi were slaughtered or driven from their homes. To complicate matters further, the Bogerk solution is not an unreasonable one. What leader doesn't want better for their people? What man doesn't want better for his family? If things are as they say, how can we condemn the Bogerk for trying to make a better life, even if they use violence to accomplish their goals?"

Keres opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. He was right. If the people around her were starving, what wouldn't she do to save them? What depths wouldn't she sink to if it meant the difference between life and death for people she cared about? If she had been angry at the Bogerk before, it was nothing compared to her confusion now. To drive the native from their land was wrong, but to let the Bogerk starve and die was also wrong. Was this what her master had been wrestling with for the last few years?

But Eragon wasn't done speaking. "Then, there's the possibility of a war, a real war, in which we will have to participate. If they continue on their path, they will reach Ceunon, as you have no doubt realized. We would have to confront them at the border. King Fiachre would send emissaries, but we do not yet know what type of people we are dealing with. We don't know if they have magic users. We don't know if they have some unknown power that we haven't encountered before. These Boguerks are completely unknown to us. They could easily be regular warriors that we could massacre. Or, they could all be magic users and even we might be hard pressed to fight them. We simply don't know."

A faint smile touched his mouth. "Or, at least, we didn't know. But I've come up with a plan. We finally have the manpower to send someone to the warzone. We've decided to commission a reconnaissance mission: a one-man job to the edge of the fighting. And now, we have the perfect candidate for the job."

Despite how expectantly he was looking at her, it still took a few seconds before it dawned on Keres what he was trying to say. And it took a few more seconds before she could verbalize the only response that came to mind. "Me?"

Eragon nodded. "You"


	34. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

The next sunrise broke upon the glistening, white form of Evaríncel soaring high over the rippling waters of Leona Lake. Having been unable to sleep the entire night, Thane had finally resorted to packing so that they could be off before sunrise. To fly even a straight line from Sunvarda to Daret would take four full days of flying assuming the wind was on their side and they encountered no bad weather. Realistically, it would take at least five if not six. However, as Thane and Evaríncel would be searching for the wandering tribes as they flew, they would be navigating a serpentine pattern above the Central Plain. Should they miss the wandering tribes, it would be a good eight days before they could hope to end up near Daret.

Since the wandering tribes were rarely in one place for more than a week, there was no way of knowing exactly when or where they could be found. The Central Plain, though smaller than the Hadarac Desert, still covered roughly a third of Alagaësia. This meant that they were, quite literally, searching for several tiny needles in a very large haystack. What was worse, the wandering tribes were known to cover their tents and carts with woven grass nets to hide them from enemies, which meant that Thane's eyes were utterly useless. They would, instead, be relying on Evaríncel's gaze to pick the small, moving figures out of the constantly waving sea of grass. To that end, they would simply have to fly a zigzag pattern above the plains, slowly making their way north, until they finally found one of the tribes.

_Though all this wandering seems like a waste of time. _Thane grumbled to himself.

Evaríncel snorted with something close to annoyance. "You saw the map. It would take at least a day to scout each of those territories. If we stay on this trajectory, we will pass through three separate tribal territories and, if we are lucky, we should be able to spot something."

The map he was referring to was little more than a rough drawing that had appeared on Thane's doorstep this morning. He could only assume that Tarehlak had made it, as the dwarf knew the tribes better than just about any other outsider. Nortavog had been quite impressed. It was unusual for Tarehlak to do anything but smith during his few days off. The fact that the map had been created and left on his doorstep meant that the dwarf must have left the forge for at least 20 minutes. As far as she knew, it was the longest he had ever left the forge short of a mission.

Gareth had also sent his regards through the enchanted mirror. He had left the morning after Thane's arrival to return to his duties ferrying the unhatched eggs around to each human city. He and Rok were currently working in Carvahall, Eragon's former home and the main trading hub in Palancar Valley. As it seemed he had contacted them specifically to speak to Thane, the young Rider had felt quite a bit of pride. Nortavog had later explained that Gareth and Rok took great pride in watching the growth of riders they had discovered. They were in a unique position. They got to see both the beginning, the initial bonding of dragon and rider, and the end result, a well trained team ready to take on fully Dragon Rider duties.

At Evaríncel's words, Thane once again pulled out the crudely drawn map and studied it. There were two proper towns on the Central Plains: Moranon and Huranine. These had been constructed after the wandering tribes had become more warlike. Traders in the north now feared that passages to the south would be completely blocked. Certainly, the Ramr River could support some commerce, but crossing the plain was the quickest way to get to Dras Leona and Bellatona. To this end, two trading towns had been constructed in the small corridor that ran between the tribal territories. These towns, which were generally populated by humans, urgals, and the odd elf or two, were primarily responsible for ensuring that the trade route stayed clear. They were composed mainly of a few houses, a tavern, an inn, two or three small farms, and the city barracks, where the unmarried soldiers slept. Both Moranon and Huranine were quite small compared to the major trading cities like Tierm and Gil'ead.

"Not that there was ever any real chance of the tribes cutting off trade between the cities." Evaríncel's words were almost scornful.

It was a sentiment that Thane could understand. Though the official reason for the formation of the cities was to ensure the safety of the trade route, those who were more politically savvy knew that there was never any real danger of the route being cut off. The real concern was that the tribes might start to demand a fee for crossing their lands. The trading companies didn't want to risk part of their profits. Thus, they had petitioned the King for protection and, with no one to represent the wandering tribes at court, the petition had been granted. But those cities were not his major concerns. If he and Evaríncel had to make a stop in either of them, it would be because something had gone wrong. Thane was more focused on the outlined territories and the brief explanation scribbled beneath each area.

There were six major tribes on the Central Plain. They were reportedly comprised of deserters from the desert tribes, moved west in search of more fertile lands. The first territory they would pass through was that of the Uwuula Tribe. They were one of the most civilized and frequently welcomed travelers into their camps. It was this group that Thane was hoping to encounter. If he missed them, their current flight path would take them through the territory of the Duwah, who were decidedly more warlike. They held the smallest stretch of territory, having been forced out of the vast majority of their land by the third, and farthest north, tribe: the Raheiya. Though less friendly than the Uwuula, the Raheiya were equally civilized. Most outsiders were not welcome, but Tarehlak had written that he frequently traded with them and that they would welcome a dragon and rider.

Thane had actually opened his mind to ask Yismora if she had any extra information about the wandering tribes before he realized that she was still in Sunvarda, having elected to remain behind rather than accompany them. After traveling with her from Vrenbana, it was strange not to feel her consciousness emanating from his saddlebags. The emptiness was somewhat sad. He had grown accustomed to her insights and, even more so, to her stories. Yismora was a natural story teller, and it did not hurt that she could often improve her stories with mental images of the places and people that she described. As it was, she had developed a fast friendship with Stenfeon, who, it turned out, was her full-blooded sister. Wild dragons cared little for blood relations excepting parents and children, and even that lasted only until the fledglings were old enough to survive on their own. Bonded dragons, however, often took a keen interest in their bloodlines. It was yet another strange quirk that came with the magical bond between them and the other races.

Still, in spite of his sadness at her departure. Thane couldn't suppress a shiver of delight. This was his first mission as a Dragon Rider. Riders usually had to wait months, even years, before they were allowed to go on their first solo mission. Admittedly, he wondered if his receiving this mission spoke more to his credit or detriment. On one hand, it could have meant that they trusted him more than most, to give him such a dangerous mission so early. On the other hand, it could simply have meant that he was simply the one who would be least missed since he hadn't formally begin his regular assignments. The latter was certainly a little less desirable than the former, but did it really matter? This was his first mission.

"And it is a glorious morning to fly." Evaríncel added. It was true. The sky was nearly cloudless and, as the sun rose above the horizon, it revealed the vibrant blue that signaled a day of good weather. There was a faint breeze blowing from the south, which sped them along their way. The breeze would, hopefully, keep them cool as the summer sun rose higher into the sky. With luck, it would also mean that the tribes would be out of their huts, enjoying the last few weeks of summer before the weather began to turn chilly.

They flew for hours, leaving the glistening waters of the lake behind them as they entered the Central Plain. The moment the vast expanse of water was behind them, Evaríncel angled off to the east, his bright eyes scanning back and forth across the land as he searched for any sign of movement. The monotonous scenery soon lulled Thane into something akin to a trance. He barely noticed as the hours slipped by and his partner banked back and forth, still searching for any sign of human passage.

The sun was low in the west and Thane was already beginning to contemplate how they would set up camp for the night when Evaríncel spoke. "There!" Thane bolted upright in the saddle, his eyes scanning the darkened landscape for any sign of human movement. Of course, he was unable to find any. "Look through my eyes." The dragon said. "They are just ahead of us and to the east." Thane did as he was bid and, sure enough, he could see three human figures running through the grass below. As he watched, the halted, heads turning in the direction of the Dragon and Rider. Though they each immediately drew their bows and fitted an arrow on the string, they did not fire.

Evaríncel landed thirty paces away and, as the wind from his wings died down, Thane called out to the men. "Hail friends, we are well met by sunset."

By the time he had unstrapped his legs and climbed out of the saddle, the men had lowered their weapons and were approaching cautiously. Now he could see them with his own eyes. Their skin was tanned, the color of light coffee, a testament to their mixed heritage between the dark-skinned desert tribes and the light-skinned people of Alagaësia. The one in the lead was tallest by a head. He wore hunting clothes that looked as though they had been made out of wolf skin. The grey fur was still attached and the beast's head hung over his shoulder, as if to sink its teeth into his flesh even in death. He bore a long scar down the left side of his face and he had bright, brown eyes that shone in the dying sunlight. It surprised Thane slightly than the man looked completely unfazed by their sudden appearance. But then again, Tarehlak had said that the wandering tribes were used to seeing dragons in the skies.

The man touched his forehead with two fingers, then his lips, then spoke. "Well met indeed, Dragon Rider. You are not Tarehlak, but you are most welcome."

Thane nodded formally, "I thank you for your kind words. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"I am Duad, son of Arad, and hunter of the Uwuula." The man extended a hand to gesture to the two men who stood at his shoulders. "This is Na'im and Shafiq, they are hunters-in-training." The two men were younger, maybe only 19 or 20. They wore clothes made of deerskin and, in spite of their attempts to look unconcerned, Thane couldn't help but notice the nervous glances they kept casting at Evaríncel.

He bowed, "My name is Thane and this is my dragon, Evaríncel. We have been searching all day for you."

A faint smile curved the edges of Duad's mouth, "For me specifically? Or for the Uwuula in general? Either way, it seems you have found what you sought."

"It certainly does." Thane laughed. "In truth, we were simply looking for any of the wandering tribes, though we hoped to find yours most. We received word that a terrible creature has been haunting these lands. The leaders of my order bid me come and investigate and, if necessary, slay the beast."

At his words, the eyes of the younger two men went wide and Shafiq blurted out, "You've come to kill the Night Stalker?!"

Duad, however, showed no expression. "We have sent many good hunters against him and they have either returned without finding him, or not returned at all." He sighed, "Still, it is not unlikely that a Dragon Rider should have better luck." He turned to Na'im, "Return to camp and inform them that we have a dragon and rider visiting with us. Have them prepare suitable accommodations." The youth nodded and dashed away, running lightly through the waving stalks of grass.

"You need not send him." Thane said, "Evaríncel and I do not need much."

Duad smiled, but this time, it was almost a grimace. "It is not for you that I send him, but for us. Dragon Riders are always welcome amongst our people. Still, it is lucky that we found you. I fear that some of our members have been . . . less than friendly of late. I did not wish for there to be any issues when you arrived in camp. To that end, it was best to inform them in advance, so suitable measures can be taken."

"What do you mean?" Thane asked, taking care to avoid a particularly large clump of cow poo. "I've always heard that the Uwuula were fond of visitors. Their hospitality is near legendary."

Daud nodded. "You are right, in general. Travelers always have something to trade, even if it is nothing more than stories. We have all that we need, and we never shirk from our duties to house and feed those who ask for our aid. Yet our latest guests have proven to be more of a problem than we had anticipated. Our law dictates we cannot expel them, but neither are we completely comfortable with their presence."

Evaríncel snorted. "What guest could be so undesirable as to have the Uwuula wish them gone?"

When Thane repeated the question, Daud raised his eyebrows, "I assumed that you already knew. After all, they came asking about the creature as well."

"Who?" Thane asked.

Daud spat into the grass, "The only group who could wear out their welcome so quickly: the Magician's Guild."

* * *

I'd like to thank all of you who have been sending me questions, comments, and concerns. The feedback is much appreciated so please keep it coming!


	35. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Keres knew she should have been thrilled at her first assignment as a Dragon Rider. She knew she should have been excited that Eragon trusted her to perform such an important task. But the truth was, she was more nervous than anything else. This was a mission unlike any that she had ever heard of. This was the Dragon Riders' first reconnaissance mission outside of Alagaësia. Even the Riders of old had been confined within the borders of their country. As some of the Eldunarí had put it, "We had enough on our plates without adding the worries of another kingdom." Not that Eragon intended to extend the Dragon Riders' influence into Golrazi. He readily admitted that the order was not yet strong enough to even police Alagaësia as thoroughly they once had. No, this mission was purely an information gathering endeavor.

Eragon had explained it to her very carefully, pausing to answer all the questions she might have had. He had also spent many minutes convincing her that she was the right person for this job, but Keres had already tried to put that out of her mind. This was her first mission. She couldn't very well refuse it could she? Especially when it was so important to the order. _Besides, _she thought wryly, _when the head of your order hand-picks you for a mission, there's really no turning him down. Particularly when he's also your mentor._ No, she would simply have to do her best.

The mission parameters were clear. She was to take Vikonyx and find the Bogerk line in Golrazi. They would fly northwest from Vrenbana until she established how far inland the invading army had broken. Vikonyx was to stay hidden, moving only under cover of darkness and, even then, only over heavily forested and sparsely populated areas. Keres would go into the villages they passed and gather her information during the days, disguised as a nomad. They would rendezvous every day after dusk to move to their next location. Once they had found the Bogerk line, they would fly south, parallel to the coast, gathering information as they went. However, that was where the most dangerous part of her mission would begin.

It would then be their job to locate the main camp of the Bogerk and, if possible, make contact with King Rickhard Shiverspear. It was only then that Keres was allowed to identify herself and deliver a message from the Dragon Riders. Here, yet again, she had been doubtful that she was the best person for this task. But, in this case, she had seen the wisdom in Eragon's choice. As a Dragon Rider, she was authorized to speak on behalf of the order. She was also Eragon's first and only apprentice, making her a direct representative of him. Besides, he had pointed out, she had been at his side when he met with several of the highest ranking members of each respective race in Vrenbana. She was well accustomed to the niceties of politics. She would then deliver her message. Eragon had given her a speech to memorize and she had already read it at least five times. After the meeting, she and Vikonyx would continue to map the Bogerk line and, upon completion of that task, Vikonyx would fly as fast as she could to Du Weldenvarden and they would make their report to Arya.

As far as she knew, no rider had ever ventured as far west into Golrazi as she was being asked to go. Eragon had a few maps that detailed the easternmost parts of the country, but part of Keres' mission was to complete those by adding everything she found to the newest drawing of the continent. To that end, Eragon had gifted her a map-making kit that included three separate maps of the continent detailing Alagaësia, Vrenbana, the areas in between, and the sections of Golrazi that Eragon had surveyed. There was a blank space in the upper, left hand corner for her to add her findings. One map detailed the land: rivers, lakes, mountains, and plains. The second listed cities and roads. The third was clearly a battle-map. It was set up in a series of grids so that she could note supply lines and enemy encampments.

Keres sincerely hoped that Saphira had broken the news to Vikonyx. Having to go over the entire plan again would just be exhausting. After concluding her meeting with Eragon, she had returned to her room to pack her things. She would have all of the next day to pack, but right now she needed something to do with her hands. There was so much nervous energy within her that she couldn't sit still. Dragon Riders took care not to garner too many possessions during their apprenticeship. It wasn't forbidden, but it was impossible to transport too much on dragonback. Once a rider settled into their new post in Alagaësia, they could amass as many items as they wanted, for if they chose to return to Vrenbana, a ship would be assigned to carry most of their belongings.

Keres had less than most apprentices, but that was only because she brought nothing with her from her old life. She had arrived here with only the clothes on her back. Still, she had collected enough things that it would warrant at least a few hours of packing. Doing odd jobs around the valley had provided a small source of income with which she had been able to purchase some whatever she needed. She had at least eight training outfits, the components of which could be mixed and matched as she saw fit. Apart from that, she had several casual outfits for what Eragon referred to as "lounging." More importantly, she had three sets of her Dragon Rider uniform which she would be required to wear at formal events. All of these were quickly folded and stuffed into a large bag which would hang off the back of Vikonyx' saddle. All, that was, except for two pairs of clothes that would get her through the next two days.

Her collection of dried herbs and salves would have to wait. It would take hours to go through the entire stock and figure out what to take. Some of the herbs could be dried and taken with her, but many wouldn't survive the journey. Mostly, she was concerned with taking her seeds so that she could start over once she got her final duty station. Her salves were less easy to replace. Some of them had taken weeks to concoct and were worth a fair amount of money. They could also be useful if she should sustain any unexpected injuries during her mission. Those would need to be properly packaged, labeled, and stored. Vikonyx would, as usual, call her crazy, but Keres didn't mind. This collection was one of the few things that absolutely had to be organized.

Next came her small collection of books. A few of these had been purchase, but most had been gifts from various acquaintances in Vrenbana. Several of them were novels, and served no real purpose other than to entertain her when she needed distraction. She had a copy of "The Alho Tales," a book which contained the stories of the old gods. There were also several books containing elf and dwarf ballads. These she put at the bottom of their bag. They would be the easiest to replace if they should get messed up. The more important books would need to be closer to the top. Among these were the two herbalism books that Eragon had given her for her 12th birthday. Already the pages were worn and several had notes scribbled in the margins. There were also several books on dragons, most of them written in the last 200 years. One of the older ones detailed their life cycle and stages of growth. Another contained descriptions of the various diseases that could befall them.

Her favorites she left off till last. These were three books taken from the library of Galbatorix himself. The first was a study of wild magic. It contained the most comprehensive explanation of the phenomena that had ever been found, despite the fact that no one was quite sure who had written in. The second was book on the theory of magic itself. It discussed several of the problems magic users faced and attempted to find solutions for them. The third was less of a book and more a compilation of notes and stories. It focused on the Grey Folk and what little was known of them. These three were some of the rarest books in the valley. In fact, Keres knew of only two other copies that had been made since the book was taken from the ruins of Galbatorix' castle. These she wrapped in a blanket and placed at the top of the pack before sealing it.

She was halfway through her collection of trinkets, trying to decide whether or not to take an enchanted orb she had been given for her 6th birthday when someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned, startled to find a young boy leaning against the wall. Despite his youth, his hair was grey and hung down into his startlingly blue eyes. He wore a pair of blue trousers and, wedged beneath his arm, was a cushion of the same color. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then Keres smiled.

"I must be _very_ special to get a visit in human form."

The boy regarded her for a moment more before speaking. "Occasionally I, too, require thumbs."

"Don't you have a mouth?"

"Contrary to what you might believe, having to carry everything in one's mouth is a rather undesirable state of being."

When he didn't continued, Keres gestured to the bed beside her, "Forgive me, Arlentor, where are my manners? Please sit down."

He moved toward her, "While the offer is appreciated, I'm afraid that I have much to do tonight and cannot stay. I did, however, come by to give you this." He removed the cushion from beneath his arm and offered it to her.

She took it, glancing back and forth between the cushion and the boy. "Well . . . thank you, Arlentor. It's lovely."

He waved a hand, "It's not for you silly girl. See to it that you find a suitable spot on your saddle to install that. I suppose I will have to be strapped in, but I will be comfortable during this flight."

Keres nearly dropped the cushion, "Wait . . . what?!"

"I'm going with you. I figured that much was obvious." Arlentor raised an eyebrow, "You get to go somewhere no Dragon Rider has ever gone and do things no Dragon Rider has ever done, and you expect me to let you go by yourself?"

"But we're not going to be staying in a nice inn every night!" She protested. "We'll be flying most nights and doing recon almost all day. This isn't a vacation Arlentor."

'I am quite aware of that."

When she continued to look confused, he sighed. "Keres, you are the first of your kind to ever walk this land. Can it be a coincidence that you became a Dragon Rider? Or that you are being given an opportunity that no Rider has ever had before? The strands of fate fray around you. The unexpected happens wherever you step." His nose twitched in a decidedly cat-like motion. "This is the most exciting thing to have happened since I was born and I have no intention of sitting idly on the sidelines."

For a few moments, Keres was unable to speak. Finally she managed, "You know it's going to be dangerous?"

His eyes narrowed, "Naturally."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Since Vikonyx cannot come into the villages with you, it will help to have an extra set of eyes. Few people notice a cat lounging around."

She blinked. "Are you offering to help me?"

The boy let out a sound that was something akin to a human purr, "I've always credited you with being relatively intelligent. Perhaps I should revise that analysis." When she didn't respond, he continued, "You must really be worried about this. I've never heard you talk this much without a single condescending remark."

Keres sighed, flashing a small smile at him, "Is it that obvious?"

He nodded, suddenly serious. "All the more reason for me to accompany you." He was quiet for a long moment, as if he were debating what to say. Finally, he shook himself, "Do not worry Keres. This will be a fine venture." He bobbed his head, as if nodding to himself, then began to move toward the door. "Oh and remember, that cushion needs to be in a well ventilated, comfortable spot. Preferably somewhere with a view." The words were tossed over his shoulder, as if they were inconsequential. But if Keres knew him, and she thought she did, failing to comply would make the journey very uncomfortable indeed.

As she watched him go, a thought suddenly struck her. "Wait! Arlentor!"

He turned to look at her, "Yes?"

"How did you know about my mission? Eragon didn't tell me until tonight and his room is warded against eavesdroppers."

Again, the cat-like grin crossed his face. "My dear girl, I am a werecat. Are you surprised that I should have information without being directly told?"

She was on her feet in an instant. "Does that mean there's a prophesy? Do you know something?"

He studied her for a moment. "Perhaps there is and perhaps there isn't. If there is, then merely by telling you I could be altering the destiny of the world. If there isn't, then I could be altering the destiny of the world by giving you the idea there could be one. Prophecies are tricky things, as your master well knows. Good evening."

He had only gone another step before she called out again, "Arlentor . . . if there was a prophecy, would you tell me?"

He paused, but didn't turn to face her. "If there was . . . then perhaps I might consider it." And then he was gone.

* * *

Apologies for the off week. I've been a bit sick, but it's all better now. Questions and comments are welcome!


	36. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

The tribe was every bit as on edge as Ari had described. Though Thane had never visited them before, there was a tension in the air that was far too think to be normal. Still, the arrival of a Dragon Rider was enough to create a small measure of excitement. Both adults and children emerged from their tents to greet the newcomers as Thane and Evaríncel entered the camp with the hunters. One by, clearly goaded on by his friends, darted up and touched Evaríncel's flank as the dragon passed. Though the white dragon growled and snapped, it was little more than a token resistance as the giant jaws closed long after the boy had retreated.

In response to Thane's raised eyebrow, the dragon shrugged. "It will make his story seem more perilous and impressive."

Eventually, Na'im returned, bringing news from the Chief Elder. He spoke quickly to Daud, who responded in kind. As the youth sped off, Daud turned to them, "The Chief Elder welcomes you to our camp. He requests that you visit him now in his tent." Daud raised a hand, "You are honored beyond measure, Dragon Rider. The Chief Elder is currently in council with our other leaders. Usually, none are allowed to disturb them, and to be asked to join them is beyond imagining for our people."

Evaríncel flicked his tail, "Are we that honored or is their situation that grim?"

When Thane repeated the question, Daud gave him another wry smile, "A bit of both, if my guesses are correct."

Thane returned the smile, following Daud as they strode down the main street of the current campsite. At the far edge of camp, seated at the very head of a line of tents, was a huge, slate-gray tent. Smoke rose through a hole in the roof, testifying to the fire that must have been burning within. Unlike the others they passed, it was not colored to match the landscape. It stood out like a massive boulder in the very center of the encampment. It was fitting, Thane thought. That was where the leader of the tribe resided. He was the rock on which the entire group was founded. It was not unlike the setup of rooms at Cieráed. Eragon's room sat at the highest and centermost point of the structure.

_Though in their case, I'd bet that it's also for protection. The Chief Elder is, assumedly, one of the oldest members of the tribe. Still,_ Thane glanced around, taking in the rows of tents that stretched for nearly a mile in every direction. _I wonder how they decide who lives on the edges and who lives in the center._

Before he could voice the question, however, Daud had halted in front of the gray tent. He bowed to Thane and Evaríncel. "This is where I must leave you, for I am not allowed inside. If it pleases you, join us at the campfire tonight. I am certain that you would be welcome amongst our warriors."

Thane inclined his head, painfully aware that his superior status prevented him from returning the bow. "You have been most helpful Daud. We are grateful for your assistance."

The pleased curve of the man's lips told Thane he had spoken well. The warrior turned and vanished in between the rows of tents. Thane watched him for a few moments, then turned his head back toward the front flap of the tent. This would be his first encounter with a foreign leader since his childhood. He had been instructed in the intricacies of politics, as had all Dragon Riders, and his experiences as a child gave him a slight advantage when dealing with monarchs and other leaders. Still, that didn't make the task of speaking with one any less daunting. Even worse, the tribes were notoriously finicky with regards to manners. Even a slight insult could be detrimental to his mission, particularly with the current state of affairs.

"In that case," Evaríncel interrupted, "it might be best not to keep their leaders waiting. Especially since they must have heard my approach."

That was something Thane hadn't considered. What if they were all sitting within, just waiting for him to make his entrance? The thought set his hands to trembling, but he stilled them quickly. There was no time to hesitate, no time to be uncertain. He had to make this meeting count. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped pulled it aside and stepped through the opening.

Though every eye turned to him when he entered, no one looked surprised at his appearance. There were five people sitting within the tent: three men and two women. Four were looked ancient, with wrinkles and lines enough for several lifetimes. Still, that wasn't necessarily an indicator of their age. People who spent a lot of time outdoors often aged more quickly than their counterparts who lived mostly indoors. However, there was no mistaking that the man directly across the fire from Thane was the oldest looking person he had ever seen.

He was the picture of a wise, old grandfather. His wizened face was nearly expressionless, but the brown eyes burned with an intensity that Thane could never have imagined. They held the young rider's gaze so completely that he almost forgot that they weren't alone in the room. Catching himself staring, Thane realize who this must have been and bowed low, "Greetings, Chief Elder. I am Thane Fiachreson, Dragon Rider and partner of Evaríncel."

The man rose slowly to his feet, though it was not the shaky motion of old age. This was a deliberate slowness, as if he contemplated each motion before making it. As he rose, the others also climbed to their feet. Crossing the room, the man came to a halt in front of Thane. The intense brown eyes studied him quietly for a few moments, and then the wrinkled hands grasped his shoulders. In a voice that was deeper and stronger than Thane would have expected, the old man spoke.

"You are most welcome here, Dragon Rider." The sincerity of his greeting caught Thane of guard and, for a heartbeat, he could only stare.

Then he smiled. "Your hospitality is much appreciated, Chief Elder."

The old man released him, bowing his head, "We could do no less for a friend of Tarehlak, much less one who has come to help rid us of this monstrosity." He turned, gesturing toward the other people who still stood around the fire. "These are the other leaders of our village. Kahyri and Lubna are the other elders of our village." Here, he pointed to a man with short, salt-and-pepper hair, and a woman whose shoulder-length locks were a startling shade of grey. "Fayruz is the village healer." He pointed to a woman with long, raven-black hair that belied her advanced age. "And Jaffer is our war leader." He pointed to the youngest man, who was staring at Thane with an odd mixture of grudging respect and disdain. "Now come, sit with us, and we will discuss the reason for your visit." The old man returned to his spot on the opposite side of the fire and sank back down into a sitting position.

"None of us here have encountered the beast, so we can only tell you what we have learned through our own investigations." He looked toward Kahyri, "If you would?"

The salt-and-pepper haired man nodded, clasping his hands on his lap. "Certainly Hadi. Our first reports of this creature came nearly a year ago when several of our hunters returned with tales of a close encounter near the edge of Leona Lake. Initially, we chalked it up to the imagination. Tales of strange creature emerge every few years or so and most amount to nothing. However, two months later, one of our scouting parties returned without a member. The others claimed that he had been investigating a small cave on the bank of the river and had simply vanished. A few weeks later, we received another report of a hunting party encountering a strange, wolf-like creature. It wasn't until roughly six months ago that we began having trouble. Scouting and hunting parties began to go missing or they would return missing members. It was around that same time that we received emissaries from Duwah asking our assistance in hunting down the beast. Shortly after, the Timsa contacted us with a similar request."

"You must understand," The man named Jaffer broke in, "any truce between our tribes is unprecedented. We have never cooperated before in our history. For us to do so . . ."

"The situation is grave indeed." Kahyri continued speaking as if he had never been interrupted. "We pooled together our resources and sent a large group of our best hunters to track down the beast. Of 30 men and women, less than 10 returned. They had encountered the creature in no-man's land and it had slaughtered them like sheep. Worse still, the creature seems to have grown bolder. It has begun attacking closer and closer to camp. There are even reports that it struck directly in the Duwah's main encampment."

Evaríncel spoke in Thane's mind, his voice low and urgent, "This is no natural creature. There is none that would attack a large group of hunters, much less go into a human encampment. There are very few predators in history that have ever hunted humans."

Thane acknowledged the comment briefly before asking, "But what is the motive? Hunger? Has this creature eaten the men it kills? Or is it a territorial issue?"

Fayruz, the healer, spoke up, "It has not eaten any of the men. What bodies I received have been in pieces, but the lack no limbs."

"Nor do these killings seem territorial." Jaffer added, "We have never known the creature to return to any single spot. It roams the plains and has been spotted in numerous different locations."

"Then we are dealing with a sport-hunter." Evaríncel growled, his voice heavy with disgust. "You know what this sounds like."

Thane shook his head, speaking in his mind to his partner. _Impossible. They were all killed long ago. Besides, the description wouldn't fit. No, this is a new hunter._ Then he spoke aloud to the assembled leaders. "Rest assured, I will find this creature. The Dragon Riders have dealt with threats like this before, so we are well equipped to handle such a problem. If possible, I would like to speak with anyone who has experienced direct contact with the beast. Once that is done, I will formulate a plan of attack and pursue it." He looked across the fire at the Chief Elder. "I will not fail in this."

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then, Chief Elder Hadi leaned forward. "What is your age?"

For a heartbeat, Thane hesitated. Then he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, "I'm 23 sir."

There were a few murmurs from the assembled leaders, but Hadi ignored them. "You are quite young to shoulder as much responsibility as you have. And now you seek to hunt down a creature that has defied our best hunters." He smiled, "If only all our youths possessed such bravery."

When the man named Jaffer glanced angrily at the old man, Thane spoke up. "With all due respect sir, I wouldn't call this bravery. I have been trained to deal with threats like this. Magic is a Dragon Rider's area of expertise." A small smile creased his face as he added, "And if you must call it bravery, then I must admit that it doesn't take much to be brave on the back of a dragon."

The laugh that filled the tent was so musical, that for a moment Thane couldn't believe it was issuing from a human and not an elf. The Chief Elder threw back his head, laughing without restraint. The sound was so merry that it drew smile even from the two other men. The women chuckled openly, their faces now echoing the beauties they must have been in their youths. After a long while, Hadi shook his head, "No, I imagine that a dragon must be a rather large confidence booster. Still, your humility does you credit, young Thane. The Riders have taught you well."

He glanced around at the leaders, then returned his gaze to Thane. "We shall send to you the three hunters who have encountered the beast. They will visit tonight, after the evening hunt returns, and provide as much assistance as they can. Beyond that, I'm afraid, we must leave this task to you. We have not so many hunters that I would willingly risk them in this venture."

Thane nodded, "I understand. I, too, and eager to prevent unnecessary bloodshed."

Hadi inclined his head, "Your words gladden me, for I must also request a favor of you." When Thane raised his eyebrows, the Chief Elder continued. "We have not told the representatives from the Magician's Guild anything. They do not understand that we chose this lifestyle freely, not out of ignorance. Thus, they treat us as savages. Our custom dictates that we cannot throw them out, though many amongst my people have been sorely tempted to do so. Still, we have refused them any information on the matter of this creature." He leaned back, staring at Thane through the flames. "You are free to share with them what information you will, but I must ask that you exercise caution. These magicians are no match for such a creature. It would kill them and I wish them no harm." Lubna snorted at the last addition and Jaffer shot her a warning glance that she blatantly ignored.

Thane bowed again, keeping his eyes on the Chief Elder. "I will confer with my leaders before making any decisions regarding the Magician's Guild. However, we are grateful for your trust, and for your hospitality." Turning his gaze upon the other leaders, Thane acknowledged each of them with a nod of his head, "We will go now and set up our tent. And we will be happy to receive your hunters at their earliest convenience. Gentlemen, Ladies." He turned and swiftly exited the tent, not letting out his breath until the flap had closed behind him. Evaríncel stood just outside, his eyes closed and his head resting on the ground. He looked, for all the world, as if he were asleep, but Thane could feel the restlessness of his thoughts.

"Hunting is meant to only to provide sustenance. What this creature does is slaughter." The white dragon growled, his tail twitching.

_I know._ Thane laid a hand against the armored, white muzzle. _But we will be the hunters now. There has not yet been a creature born that can escape a dragon and rider._ His words were greeted by a satisfied snort from the dragon, which bathed him in a hot wind smelling of burnt meat and hair. _In the meantime, we should go set up our tent. It looks like it's going to be a long night. _

"And on the morrow we hunt?"

_Yes_


	37. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Keres sighed as she leaned back against the log, staring up at the darkening sky. It had been a day full of frayed emotions. First Saphira had woken Vikonyx and her up at the crack of dawn. After meeting her at Sútsunger, the blue dragon had explained to them the concept of the Eldunarí, which had forced Keres to admit to having found them years earlier. Admittedly, she hadn't known exactly what they were, or how they were created, but when you were as sensitive to magic as she was, it was nearly impossible not to notice a spot in Cieráed that practically hummed with power. As it was, Saphira was more surprised than angry. Next had come a final breakfast in which she had said her goodbyes to all of the youngest apprentices in Vrenbana. As Eragon's apprentice, she had occasionally accompanied him when he worked with the newest riders and dragons. It would not have been too far off to say that Keres had enjoyed those days working with the young ones. She even had her special favorites amongst the group. Saying goodbye to them had been far more difficult than she had anticipated.

Then had come time to make her rounds. She had begun in Keldenkógr. Though many of the elves had initially been leery of her, the vast majority had come around during her training. She could even say that she had friends amongst them. Stelitzía and Calatheas were in their garden when she found them. They had, evidently, been expecting her arrival. Keres didn't bother to ask how. Elves always seemed to know things they had no real way of knowing. They greeted her with a gift: a bag containing several packets of their favorite seeds. There were no herbs here, only flowers and trees to plant when she received her final duty station. It was quite a gift, for the sisters treated their seeds like their children and had never before bequeathed so many to another individual. Keres left them with promises that when she had created her own plants, she would return the favor and send her own seeds back to them.

Then it was off to Thralmurdras. Over the years she had performed tasks for at least half the people in the city, but there were several that had become frequent patrons. There was Gald, the doctor she had spent many afternoons assisting, and Fioro, a smith she had often gathered assisted in gathering supplies. She had bluntly refused to accept a gift from Gald, whose medical practice needed every bit of money and supplies that it could get. Fioro had finally gotten her to take medium-length hunting knife of sound make and build. It was, she reasoned, a useful gift that was not so expensive that he would lose any great amount of money because of its absence. Lindwin, the old woman who ran the bookstore, had actually broken down in tears when Keres announced her imminent departure. It had taken nearly half an hour to calm her and, even then, Keres had only been able to leave after accepting three books of poetry as a parting gift.

The outpouring of support and gifts was nearly overwhelming. In her youth, before Vrenbana, Keres had never imagined that she would have friends. Now, it seemed, she had more than even she had realized. After her final stop, in which she bade farewell to all of her friends at the library, she sent Vikonyx off to hunt and rest. There was no telling what they would encounter where they were headed, and Keres didn't want to risk her partner being any less than her best. It was the dragon's intention to gorge herself tonight so that she could fly unimpeded for at least two or three days before needing to hunt again. She dropped Keres off near Mount Korená before angling off to the east and vanishing into the dusky sky.

Admittedly, Keres should have gone back to Cieráed to rest as well, but she couldn't bring herself to go back so soon. To do so would have felt final, as though she had come to terms with her leaving and was ready to depart. The truth was that she still hadn't quite managed to convince herself that she was actually about to leave Vrenbana. For so long she had been dreaming about what would happen when she received her sword and became a Dragon Rider in full, but she had never given any thought to what happened afterwards. She supposed if she were just going back to Alagaësia, it might have been easier. She would be going where there were other Riders. It would be as normal. What she had been asked to do, what she was going to have to do, was anything but normal.

Her feet raced along with her thoughts, moving her without an conscious command from her mind. It was only when she finally slowed that she realized she had raced up one of the many mountain paths that snaked through the area and was standing at the very top of Nasuada Falls. The biggest and most beautiful waterfall in the valley had been the obvious choice to bear the matriarch's name. Here, the Starlode River cascaded down over the mountain's face, tumbling for hundreds of feet before pooling far below and continuing its course out toward Lake Miraloft. It was one of her favorite places in the valley. The sudden drop-off sent a spray of water out into the open air, glistening with a rainbow of colors as the sun slowly sank below the rim of the valley. Off to the east, though a gap between some of the lower mountains, she could see the ever-glistening waters of the Shore of Ghosts.

It was a good place to be tonight, she decided. There were memories here. And, perhaps, there might be peace here as well. Searching around the edge of the mountain, she found the small campsite the Riders had fashioned up here for meditation and relaxation. It was a simple affair. Just a small pit for a campfire, a few logs that served as benches, a flat rock for dressing kills, and a clear patch of earth on which to pitch a tent. In short, it was perfect. Gathering some logs and twigs, Keres set the fire to blazing with a word and leaned back against one of the logs. At this distance, the roaring of the falls was somewhat muted, and the spray had taken on a silver sheen as the moon emerged to replace her counterpart in the night sky.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The voice would have startled her, had it not been so familiar. As it was, a smile spread across her face. "Did you now, Eragon?"

A chuckle greeted her words as he stepped over the log against which she leaned. Settling himself down next to her, he answered. "This was the first place I brought you after you came to Vrenbana."

"You told me that you had decided to teach me yourself. I was so excited . . . and so terrified. There was a lot pressure."

He smiled over at her. "But you withstood it. You were a strong little girl. I hoped that would translate into a strong Rider."

"And?"

"Suffice to say I am not disappointed. On the contrary, if anything, you have surpassed anything I could have hoped for."

Keres laughed, "You know, there were so many days I hated you. I spent hours practicing some spell I couldn't quite get right and I cursed you with every breath. You always asked so much of me . . . I was far ahead of my year-mates. I was farther along than any of the others expected me to be. But you always wanted more, always asked for more, always expected more." She dropped her gaze to her hands, "And I guess it rubbed off, because I always expect more of myself now." Looking back up at him, she smiled again. "I know you were nervous, but, for what it's worth, I think you were the best master I could have had."

He leaned back against the log, staring up into the sky. "You were . . . unique. When I first heard about you, I wasn't entirely sure what to think. I knew what your mother was. I'd heard enough about her both to fear and mistrust her. _But,_ I thought to myself, _if a dragon chose her, she must have something, some quality, we can't see. _Dragons do not pick their partners lightly. So you arrived here, and I had to invent an entirely new strategy for teaching you. You already knew magic at such a young age. Your strength and speed were that of an elf, but your mind was that of a human. You were tenacious, intelligent, a quick study, and completely different than any child I had ever met before. I had to try new things with you, things no one had ever attempted to teach such a young child. And, at every turn, you proved yourself equal or greater to what I had expected."

He finally looked over at her, but the smile was gone from his face. "You did more than any master could reasonably expect of his pupil. And yet, even now, I must once again ask far too much of you."

Her cheeks burned as she lowered her gaze, staring into the fire. "I am the first apprentice of Eragon Bromson. If my master asks it of me, there is no task I will not complete."

"When I was young, I was often told that stubbornness ran in my family. It would appear that it has also rubbed off on my apprentice."

"I don't think so." This time it was Keres who tipped her head back to stare into the night sky. "Stubbornness isn't a trait that can rub off. It isn't even really an inherited trait. Either people are stubborn, or they are not. However, I think that certain opportunities attract people who are stubborn. We are drawn to the same things, things that anyone else would see as too difficult or impossible. As such, we often end up together. Being stubborn is much easier when there are others willing to take on a task alongside you."

A peal of laughter met her words and she turned sharply, eyes narrowing as she focused her gaze on her master. He was leaning back against the log, his chest heaving as roared his laughter to the heavens. "What?!" She snapped. When he didn't answer, she shoved him, "Come on now, what's so funny?"

When, finally, he had regained control of himself, he sighed, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry Keres. I just . . . I never thought to hear my young apprentice speaking so wisely. It is the paradox of mentorship. You spend so long trying to help your apprentice grow without ever really being prepared when they do." He chuckled again, and then, seeing her expression, held up his hands defensively. "Peace, Keres. I have brought you a gift. Would that make us even?"

"Depends on the gift." Despite her tone, she could not stop the grin from curving the corners of her mouth.

He nodded, reaching behind the log, into a large pack that she hadn't even noticed until then. He withdrew a long, cylindrical tube. "I think this has sat idle for long enough. It is time for it to be passed down." He handed it to her and she opened the tube, her heart skipping a beat as she realized what it was. "Eragon . . ." she whispered. "Is this . . ." He nodded and she quickly tugged the unstrung bow from the tube. It was Eragon's bow, the one given to him by Queen Islanzadí during the Rider War. She held it with trembling fingers, brushing over the graceful curves.

"The draw weight might seem a tad heavy until you are used to it, but you're too strong for any but an urgal or elven bow and, between you and me, I prefer the elf-made ones." He explained. "There are only 20 arrows. If you want more, you'll have to make them yourself."

It took a few minutes for words to catch up with her. "Eragon, I can't accept this. This was . . ."

"A gift that was well given at the first." He cut her off calmly. "It is my right to bequeath it to whom I wish. I find hunting with a bow much more satisfying than hunting by magic."

Finally, she bowed her head, "I am honored, Eragon. Thank you."

He inclined his head to her as she quickly replaced the bow in its tube and carefully set it down at her side. "Saphira sent a gift for you as well."

Keres raised an eyebrow. "Saphira?" she asked, thinking of the gifts that Saphira had presented for the Agaetí Blödhren. "She does realize that Vikonyx has to be able to carry it?"

Eragon chuckled, "Yes, she is aware of that, I think. And at any rate, it's small enough." He reached behind the log again and pulled out a wrapped, rectangular package. Passing it to her, he said, "It . . . it's a good gift."

Keres carefully pulled back the cloth, revealing the back of a carefully constructed tablet. "A fairth?" She asked, slightly puzzled. Then, as she turned the tablet over and saw the picture, she gasped. The picture was beautifully made. Obviously Saphira had a very clear memory of the image, for every line and detail was crisp. Eragon and Keres sat across from each other at a table, depicted from the waist up. Keres' hair was tucked carefully behind her ears and she scowled down at the parchment she was writing on, her brow furrowed in concentration. It was not an ugly expression, just one of utmost seriousness and determination. However, it was not her image that had drawn her attention. Eragon sat across from her, leaning forward as if to look at her work. At least, she had assumed he was looking at her work. A closer inspection revealed that his gaze was riveted, not on the paper, but on her face. The expression was gentle, content, and proud beyond belief. The look was radiant.

The image suddenly blurred and it took Keres a moment to realize that she was crying. She hastily brushed away the tears, lest they should fall on the fairth. A hand descended onto her shoulder. She looked up to see Eragon kneeling beside her. He was staring at the fairth as well. "Sometimes, I think she knows me better than I know myself." He sighed, "I have watched you from the moment you arrived in Vrenbana. Out of fear, I claimed you as my own apprentice, my first apprentice, and determined that I alone could ensure that you would be an asset to the riders, rather than a threat." His speech was broken by a soft chuckle, "I watched you grow. I watched you experience the joys of life and delight in the smallest details of the world, details that even I, myself, failed to see. Despite the warning of my mind, I grew attached to you. I reveled in your triumphs and grieved for your failures. Roran's words to me, all those years ago, suddenly made sense. His devotion to Hope suddenly made sense. You grew strong, and bold, and surpassed even my wildest hopes. And now, you are a rider." A hand touched her cheek, lifting her head until she stared into the brown eyes of her master. He stroked the side of her face, a gentle smile playing around his mouth as his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I cannot say whether or not I will have children before my time is ended. Regardless, I will forever count you as the first amongst my heirs, as mine own daughter."

She blinked, trying to stop the tears that were already running down her cheeks. "I never thought that I needed a father. Before I came here, I had it so carefully reasoned out in my head. Sons needed fathers to teach them how to be men. Daughters only needed mothers." She looked back down at the fairth. "Thank you, for being my father, Eragon. Thank you for teaching me that what I am is less important than how I live." She paused, swallowing what felt like a massive stone in her throat. "Thank you for my freedom."

"You must go now, and ensure that freedom for others." His tone was tight, but businesslike now. The time for tears was over. Keres quickly wiped them from her face and her eyes. Composing her expression, she looked up at him, finding a similar, hard look on his face. "You are a Dragon Rider."

Nodding to herself several times, she finally voiced the question that had been nagging her all day, the question that she had needed to ask since she had first been given her assignment. "Do you think I can do it?"

"Keres" She looked up at him, for he had now risen to his feet so that he towered over her. "You are the most capable apprentice to ever come though Vrenbana. You are strong. You are compassionate. And you are wise. I have no doubt when I say that, someday, you will become a Dragon Rider to rival even the greatest of our order." His bright eyes glowed in the firelight as he stared intently at her. "Your inexperience and your youth are your only disadvantages. The only cure for those is missions like this. We need riders like you, so you will have to grow up quickly now, to fill the void." His voice softened slightly as he added, "Rest assured, I would not have asked this of you if I did not think you were capable of accomplishing it."

And that was it. That was all she needed to hear. Her master had never yet been wrong about her abilities, even if she hadn't know it herself. Every task he had set before her, even the seemingly impossible ones, she had completed. If he thought her up to this, then there could be no question of her succeeding. "I will not fail, master."

He nodded, the flames of the fire touching his eyes to a bright, burning amber. "I know you won't."


	38. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

As it was, it took only an hour or so for trouble to find him. Thane quickly discovered that the Chief Elder had instructed several members of the tribe to construct a tent for him during their chat. He was inside it, washing himself after the long ride, when Evaríncel's voice broke the silence.

"The Magicians are approaching. Should I scare them away?"

_No, just delay them for a moment or two. _Thane responded, toweling off his face and hair. _I need to get dressed before I meet them._

"Understood" From outside the tent came the unmistakable sound of Evaríncel's rumbling growl. The ground shook slightly as the dragon repositioned himself, no doubt obstructing the entrance to the tent. Thane quickly pulled on a clean shirt, running a hand through his still-damp hair. He had only just finished tucking it in when the voice came from outside.

"Greetings Dragon Rider. Can you call off your beast so we may speak?"

Thane pulled aside the flap to the tent. In all honesty, the scene playing out in front of him was rather hilarious. Evaríncel's wings were half-flared. His neck was low to the ground, meaning that his huge head was nearly on eye level with the three magicians. Two of them looked as if they were struggling not to cower, and doing a poor job of it. A younger male was actually leaning away from the dragon, as if his torso were attempting to flee and his feet were unwilling to move. The sole woman was hiding behind the third man, but making every attempt to look otherwise. Only the third magician, an older male, was standing straight. His posture was casual, but there was a tension in his shoulder and, even though he addressed Thane, his eyes never left Evaríncel's snarling face.

"Ah, Dragon Rider, our apologies for arriving unannounced. We only just discovered that you were here."

Thane moved forward, placing a hand on Evaríncel's front leg. The dragon snorted once more, but settled back into a more relaxed posture. "You're going to regret not letting me run them off."

_I didn't say I didn't want you to. I just meant that we couldn't._ To the magician, he said, "Well met. We just arrived, so please, don't trouble yourself." He patted the dragon again, "This is my partner, Evaríncel, and I am Thane."

The older male, who was obviously the leader here, inclined his head, "I am Vanth Charu, 3rd Chair Magician of the Dras Leona Chapter of the Magician's Guild. My companions are Seker Amitson, senior magician, and Nikkal, daughter of Summer."

Thane nodded to each of them. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. What can I do for you?"

Vanth smiled, "Well, it is our understanding that you are here for the same reason that we are. Unfortunately, we have found this tribe to be . . . unhelpful." The last word was so tinged with disgust that Thane was amazed that the man maintained his pleasant smile even while speaking it. "We thought that, perhaps, you might have more luck than we did. They might be more willing to talk to you. And your cooperation in this matter would be much appreciated."

It was amazing how, with every word he spoke, Thane disliked him more and more. Even when it was coming from one of the senior riders, being talked to like a child had always irked Thane. Somehow, hearing it from this man was unfathomably worse. _The question is: is he talking to me like this because I am young, or because he hopes that if he plays the wise adult, I will play the gullible youth? _

"Does it matter?" Evaríncel's response was quick and angry. "Regardless of his position within the Magician's Guild, as a Dragon Rider you outrank him. He is being blatantly disrespectful no matter how you look at the situation." Thane couldn't help but be slightly surprised at the vehemence in his partner's tone. Sensing the emotion, the white dragon snorted. "When they insult my rider, they insult me, for I chose my partner. And we dragons do not take insults lightly." His tail flicked, a surefire gesture that he was very angry.

_Cool your anger. Even if he is determined to be disrespectful, we are Dragon Riders. We must be better._ Taking a moment to consider his answer, Thane spoke. "Well, I am saddened to hear that your experience here was less than excellent. However, I assure you that you need not trouble yourself with this any further. The situation is well under control and you are free to return to the city at your leisure."

Vanth's smile wavered ever so slightly, but his tone remained pleasant. "Come now, we cannot go home yet. This creature must be found and secured for study, even if it is just a carcass. The things we could learn from such a beast could leap our understanding of magic and its effects on living beings hundreds of years forward."

Much to Thane's surprise, the woman named Nikkal spoke up, "Studying this creature could also help us determine its origins. If it was able to be infected by magic, then there is a definite possibility that other creatures could also be exposed. If it could turn a wild animal into a monster, who's to say what it could do to a human?"

Thane allowed his gaze to drift to her earnest face for a moment. _Does she really believe that?_

Evaríncel tasted the air. "I believe so. I can smell nothing but excitement coming from her. The man however, this Vanth, he is angered, most likely by you."

Not for the first time, Thane was grateful to have a partner with such an enhanced ability of smell. Humans almost always experienced some negative emotion while lying, and most of those emotions correlated to a certain type of scent: fear, unease, or anger. It wasn't foolproof, but it was better than having nothing at all. "Once we have killed the creature, its body will be transported to Du Weldenvarden for study. I am certain that the elves will be more than happy to share their findings with you. I know that they have already sent reports on the few creatures we have found thus far."

"You call those reports?" The man named Seker was scoffing now. "Pages and pages of speculation and trivial measurements and no hard data. Do you take us for fools? The elves would no sooner share their secrets with us than you would." He broke off suddenly as Vanth turned, ever so slightly, and rested his cool, grey gaze on the younger man. Though the calm expression on Vanth's face never wavered, Thane could sense his annoyance.

_I expect we weren't supposed to hear that, at least not so soon._ He commented to Evaríncel.

The answer was not long in coming. "At least he is willing to speak his mind. Better an honest malcontent than a lying schemer."

_Agreed._ Ignoring Seker and speaking directly to Vanth, Thane said, "What is it that you are proposing?"

"That we accompany you on your hunt." The answer almost came too quickly. Vanth spread his arms, "We are not unskilled in magical combat. Indeed, we were handpicked for this mission by 1st Chair Irrant. Working together, we could easily defeat this creature, and maybe even capture it alive."

Thane shook his head, "Dragons and Riders are trained to work as a team. We spend years learning how to work together to complete missions like this. We can't just add other magicians into the mix."

"Yet Dragon Riders often work together with other Dragon Riders. So teamwork is not beyond you, is it?" Vanth raised an eyebrow.

"We understand their training, and they understand ours. What's more, dragons are perceptive in a way that we humans are not. They can communicate with the smallest of gestures. Do not compare a Dragon Rider to any other warrior." Thane words were accompanied by a rumbling from deep within Evaríncel's chest. This magician was trying his patience to the utmost.

Nikkal once again broke the silence, her voice soft and placating. "Peace, Dragon Rider. We meant no disrespect."

Not taking his eyes of Vanth, Thane gave her the slightest of nods before speaking directly to the black-haired man. "I will consider your proposal. However, I must have time. Before the morning, I will give you my decision."

Seker made a motion as if to protest, but Vanth held up a hand. "I thank you for your understanding. We will eagerly await your decision." Once again inclining his head, he turned and glided gracefully away. Nikkal followed him without hesitation. Sekel paused only to throw a final, disdainful glance in Thane's direction for striding off after his leader.

Evaríncel watched them go with a satisfied snort. "Well, that could have gone better."

_It could also have gone worse._

For a moment, the white dragon was silent, then he answered. "You bought us a few hours. That was well spoken, at least."

_We should contact Arya. She'll be able to help us out on this. Besides, we're supposed to report before we go hunting anyways. _

"So the hunt is still on?"

_Oh yes. We're leaving tomorrow morning. If we take off before they're ready, especially if we being our flight in a different direction than our target, there's no way they'll be able to catch us. _

"Of course not." The thought seemed to please Evaríncel. "Go and report to her. I will keep watch out here."

_You think they'd try something?_

"I would hope not, at least not without hearing your decision first. However, they would not be the first to make a hasty, ill-planned move." He settled down on a patch of grass. "Either way, it would be prudent to have an eye out in case either the monster or the beasts get a hankering to come after us."

Thane nodded, giving his partner one last pat on the muzzle. Returning to his tent, he rummaged around in his pack until he found the small mirror he kept wrapped within his spare set of clothes. He set it on the ground before him, propping it up against water-skin. With a few words in the ancient language, he set the surface to rippling like water. A few seconds later, it stilled and he found himself staring at a wall filled with books. It took nearly a full minute before a face appeared. And it was not Arya.

A young elf-boy, a child, stared out of the mirror with such intense, green eyes that Thane wondered if he weren't looking at a painting. Then the image spoke, "Greetings, Dragon Rider. You seek Arya Dröttning, yes?"

"I do. Can you inform her that I wish to speak with her?"

He nodded, "A moment please. She is currently finished up a council with several of our elders." He vanished from the mirror, leaving Thane to stare, yet again, at the wall of books. About five minutes later, he heard faint whispers of movement from the other side of the glass. Then Arya stepped into frame. She wore a simple, grey robe and a circlet of polished silver around her brow.

"Thane" It was a statement, but it sounded like a challenge. "I hadn't expected to hear from you so soon."

"Arya-elda, we were lucky. We found the Uwuula on our first day of searching. I've already spoken to the Chief Elder and several of his advisors."

The she-elf nodded several times, "And, what have you found?"

Thane sighed, "Reports of the creature seem consistent. What's more, it seems that the threat was great enough that it united several of the tribes under a flag of truce. As you are likely aware, such an event is unprecedented. Several Uwuula hunters are set to visit me tonight in order to discuss the creature further and help me formulate a plan of attack."

"It sounds like everything is going smoothly then."

"Well, it would be," Thane said, "except that there are three members of the Magician's Guild here. They've already come to see me. Apparently the tribe is less than pleased with their presence. They refuse to give them any information. I've only just finished meeting with them."

"And, what is it they want this time?" Was that weariness in her voice? Certainly her expression had darkened at the mention of the Magician's Guild.

"They've ask to come on the hunt with us."

"Out of the question." The vehemence in her voice startled him and Thane actually recoiled from the mirror slightly. Arya leaned forward, "I will not have a new Dragon Rider going on a dangerous mission with anyone from the Magician's guild." Her brow furrowed and her eyes moved as if she were thinking as rapidly as possible. "Who have they sent? Anyone of note?"

He nodded, "The group is headed by Vanth Charu. He claims to be 3rd chair magician of the Dras Leona Chapter. Can you confirm?"

Her expression darkened still further. "Oh yes, Vanth Charu is everything he claims to be and more. He is exceedingly ambitious and possessed of a willingness to disregard the rules whenever it benefits him. He rose through the ranks as fast as anyone we've ever seen, which, unfortunately, means that he has skill and power to go along with his ambition. It's a disturbing combination." She lifted a finger and pressed it against her lips in one of the most blatant signs of agitation he had ever seen an elf display. "Who else?"

"Two lower level mages. Seker Amitson, who they presented as a senior magician, and a young woman named Nikkal. Both of them deferred greatly to Vanth."

Arya's head bobbed a few times. "Seker we have heard of, but this Nikkal is new. Still, the fact that they were picked to go out with Vanth is a testament to their skills. He has very little patience for what he sees as useless things. That includes people." She lapsed into a silence so long that Thane had to prompt her.

"I told them that I would have a decision before the morning. What would you have me do?"

She looked up at him, green eyes blazing from within the depths of the mirror. Every line of her body was tense, as if she were about to spring upon an enemy. "We cannot simply ignore them, to do so would create a rift between our factions that could be irreconcilable. But I do not trust the Dras Leona Chapter. Our relations with many of the chapters are cordial enough, but there has always been a certain amount of animosity between our guard at Sunvarda and their magicians." She paused for a moment, then continued, "I would allow one of them to accompany you, but only one. Preferably, the woman, Nikkal. If she is new, which she must be if she has not been identified by our sources, then she will likely be the least threat to you. Also, this might be a good chance to create an ally within the ranks of the Dras Leona chapter. A strong youngster with the potential to rise up through their ranks could be a great asset in the future."

"Vanth will not be pleased with this decision."

"Of course he will not, but by agreeing to take one of them, he cannot argue that you are being completely dismissive of their abilities. Give him any excuse you like for taking her, but make sure that she is the only one that accompanies you. I would also blindfold her, if she is amiable, during the first few hours of your flight. That way, even if she has contact with the rest of her party, she cannot relay your position."

He was slightly surprised by how adamant she was that the Magician's Guild be kept as in the dark as possible. Certainly, he hadn't liked Vanth, but her attitude was closer to outright mistrust than simple caution. "They are not our enemies." He protested. "The Magician's Guild was founded to ensure peace and stability within our borders. Is that not also our mission?"

Arya inclined her head, "True, but not being our enemies does not necessarily make them our friends."

"But they are not so different from us. We both use magic. We both want to protect the people of Alagaësia."

The elf-queen studied him silently for a long moment. "For many of them, that is a true enough statement. Many of them are like us. They want nothing more than to learn how to use their abilities for the benefit of others." Her lips tightened as she continued, "However, there are others whose intentions are not so pure. Our dragons examine us before they will hatch. We must show certain traits and a certain purity of character before we can even join the order. Even then, we had Galbatorix, Morzan, and the other Foresworn amongst our ranks. Do you expect them to be any different? They who will accept anyone who shows a trace of magical talent? There is no group that is completely free of corruption. But groups with power, real power, are especially susceptible. You know how we view power."

Thane nodded. It was one of the first lessons a Dragon Rider had to learn when he or she became an apprentice. "It is both a blessing and a curse. Power is a blessing because it means we can affect real change in the world. We can protect those who need to be protected, and stop those who need to be stopped. It is also a curse, because it means that we have the ability to change the world, not just for the better, but for the worse as well."

"Do not forget that, Thane Fiachreson. We are but one power in a world where there are many."


	39. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Even if she had been able to sleep that night, Keres doubted her dreams would have been any more than fragmented images. As it was, she slept fitfully, waking almost every hour to glance out of her window. Never before had she experienced such a profound feeling of dread and anticipation. Between waking and sleeping, she wondered if the night was passing quickly or slowly. Typically, when she dreaded something, the minutes winged past like the wind over the mountains. When she was excited, the seconds dragged on until each was an eternity. By the time she saw the first pale halo of light rising over the Ealdin Mountains, she had decided that time had completely abandoned her and she was stuck in limbo.

She dressed quickly, taking care not to wake Vikonyx, who was still sleeping in her cushioned bed. It was so early that she had actually found the cooks in the kitchen, still preparing the morning meal. They had supplied her with a well-stocked plate piled high with bacon and ham, eggs, and thick flatcakes coated in honey. A goblet of clear, cool water accompanied the meal and she ate in silence, sitting alone in the hall while the servants bustled around, stoking the fires back to life.

Somehow, even though she was still in Vrenbana, it felt as though she had already left. Her goodbyes had been said. Her gifts had been received. There was nothing left to do but physically depart. Already, the tower had taken on an unfamiliar feel, as if she were intruding in the home of someone else. Perhaps it was all in her head. Still, did that make the sensation any less true? Her mood was dark as she quickly devoured her breakfast, eager to finish and be away before anyone else came in to eat.

Keres returned to her room to find Vikonyx awake. The dragon was staring out of the opening in the wall, her dark eyes fixed on the sun that now sat atop the mountains as if speared by their peaks. Though the partners acknowledged each other, neither spoke. Keres busied herself going through her belongings one more time, making sure that everything was packed correctly and nothing would break in transport. Vikonyx finally climbed to her feet, talked calmly over to the opening, and launched herself into the air. As the thunderous beating of her wings faded, Keres began to scour the room, ensuring that she was leaving behind nothing important.

Coming to the wall just beside the door, she paused. Etched into the stone was a single name: Keres of the White Eyes. Eragon had decided that each apprentice who inhabited a room should carve their name into the wall. It would serve as a reminder to all the apprentices who came after her of the legacy they were expected to uphold. She had etched it there with her own magic on the first day she had moved into the room. Running her hand over the stone, she traced each individual letter with her fingers. It seemed so long ago, another lifetime almost.

"Waxing nostalgic already, are we?" The voice startled her and she turned to see a small, brown figure sitting in the opening that Vikonyx had so recently exited.

Quickly recovering, Keres inclined her head. "Good morning to you, Iorinda."

The werecat returned the gesture, but didn't move from her post. "You haven't even left yet, but already you think of nothing but returning."

"Is that so wrong?"

The werecat tilted her head, "In this case, perhaps. Grief will cloud your judgment and fog your mind. With such a mission such as yours, you cannot afford that luxury."

Anger crept into Keres's stomach, as it so often did when she conversed with the female werecat. Iorinda had something of a reputation amongst the people of the valley. Despite her wisdom, or perhaps because of it, she was prone to being rude, enigmatic, and opinionated. The last of those, Eragon had told her, was a characteristic of most werecats, but Keres thought that Iorinda rather liked chafing on the nerves of everyone she met. "This is my home. Am I not allowed to be sad to leave it?"

The werecat snorted, "Your home? Child, you are sadly mistaken if you believe this place to be your home." Licking a paw impassively, she continued, "Neither you, nor your master, have a home, save what you create with your own two hands. The house his uncle built, his rooms in Farthen Dúr or Du Weldenvarden, none of these were his home, much though he thought they were. Even though he was born in Alagaësia, even though it was home to all his friends and family, even it was not his home. He knew this, deep in his heart, and so he left. He created this place to be his home. Here he finally found peace." Finally finishing her impromptu cleaning of her paws, Iorinda looked up at the young rider. "You belong nowhere that you do not make yourself. That is the curse your master bore, and now it is the curse that you bear. You, his heir in everything but blood."

Keres could do nothing more than stare. The werecat had struck a nerve, and she knew it, but the tortoiseshell seemed uninterested in backing down. "Do not grieve for what was never yours. Make your own future and you will find the home this never was." Without any further explanation, she rose to her paws, stretched luxuriously, and then turned and began to pad toward the opening in the wall. Just as the she-werecat reached the edge, she turned and glanced over her shoulder. "And Keres . . . that is my son you are taking with you. Do not forget that." Then she was gone, vanishing over the edge and into the gathering light of morning.

It took a few minutes for Keres to recover. Then she cursed, flinging herself down on the bed and covering her face with her hands. The werecat's words were deeply troubling, not least of all because of their source. With her attitude, a creature like Iorinda would not have been tolerated were she not every bit as intelligent and wise as the rest of her kind. Keres had never known the she-werecat's words to be wrong on any count. Though they technically weren't, Keres couldn't help but feel that these latest comments amounted to nothing short of banishment. If what Iorinda said was true, then Vrenbana would never be home for her, as it was for Eragon. Or maybe it would be, but only if Keres changed some aspect of it to make it more her own. Or maybe . . .

She let out a groan of dismay. Prophecies, as Eragon had taught her, were a tricky thing. Any action could alter their meaning and outcome in an infinite number of ways. It would do her no good to try and puzzle out the meaning of the werecat's words. They would only make sense when the prophesy came true, in which case, it was unlikely Keres would be able to do anything to stop it. However, what had bothered her most was the statement about her relationship to Eragon. Certainly she was his apprentice, and it was also true that in terms of how she was made, she was more like him than any other. Still, that was not enough to warrant such a comparison. To hear herself called "His heir in everything but blood" was more than a little bit disconcerting.

Luckily, she had no more time to dwell on it. Vikonyx touched her mind from somewhere to the south. The message was simple. "It's time." A few moments later, the black, armored head appeared in the opening to the outside. Keres greeted the dragon with a gentle rub on her nose. She was rewarded with a hot, meat-scented breath that ruffled her hair. "Go ahead and put some of it on my back. You can't carry all that down the stairs." Vikonyx sounded as subdued as Keres felt. Wordlessly, Keres moved to where her saddle sat against the foot of her bed. She heaved it up onto her shoulder.

The only thing currently attached to the saddle was the small set of saddlebags she had purchased from Koaloth. The young urgal was exceptionally skilled at working with leather, so, when Keres received the command from Arlentor, Koaloth had been the first person she had visited. The previous night, he had delivered it to her room. A handwritten note had explained that the left-hand bag had been specially designed so that Arlentor wouldn't get wet when it rained, but would get plenty of air when it was sunny. She had balanced it out with several of her dried rations so that it would be easily within reach during the flight. As she set the saddle down on Vikonyx's back, the dragon regarded her with a single, dark eye. "Are you alright?"

"No, but I will be." Keres tightened the straps on the saddle, tugging hard to make sure that it wouldn't slip mid-flight. She quickly attached the rest of the bags to the saddle, testing each one to make sure it was secure before patting the black shoulder. "I'd like to walk down if it's alright with you."

Vikonyx nodded and took off out of the room again, buffeting her rider for a moment before she vanished around the curve of the building. Keres turned, staring around at the now almost-empty room. Only her boots and Skraván sitting near the door gave any indication that the room was occupied. It was too neat, too clean. The sight saddened her and, crossing to the door, she quickly belted on her sword and slid her feet into her boots. Taking a last, long look around her, she tugged open the door and stepped outside. The hallway was now lit with several torches and she quickly traversed the steps.

As she came to the bottom landing and opened the door to step outside, she found herself face to face with Eragon. He blinked a few times, apparently as surprised as she was, before continuing, "I was going to come find you."

"Well, here I am." The comment came across harsher than she had intended.

Luckily, it didn't seem that he had taken offence. "I have one last thing for you. It should have been presented the same day as your blade, but it took a bit longer than anticipated." He gestured for her to follow and they stepped out into the early morning sunlight. Vikonyx was standing alongside Saphira, and the two she-dragons glittered like giant gems. As they neared the two dragons, Eragon gestured to a small chest that now sat between Vikonyx's front legs. Keres strode over, pulling open the lid and staring down at the contents.

For a heartbeat, she stared, uncomprehending, at her own reflection. Then she recognized the contents. It was armor. Every Dragon Rider who graduated received a set of armor that would enable them to perform their duties in relative safety, but this . . .

"Normally, what the apprentices receive is slightly less embellished, but you will be meeting King Rickhard and it would not do for you to show up in common armor. He would likely disregard you. Or worse, it is a slight upon his station." Eragon explained. "I had the elves add a little bit of decoration to the exterior. It's nothing too expensive, but it will definitely ensure that he notices you." Keres was inclined to argue on that last point. The armor bright silver, just like all of the riders wore, but she could see intricate lines etched into the metal. Vines and thorns and flowers stretched across the surface. The helm was the standard Dragon Rider issue, with wings that swept back from her temples and a circle on the brow bearing the crest of the Riders. As was custom, however, three stones in the color of her dragon decorated the chest-plate.

Keres couldn't help a broad smile from breaking over her face. There were no words, just a bright, vibrant grin that she directed at her former master. He returned the smile. "I'm glad you approve." Then the smile faltered, "Are you ready to go?"

"Certainly not without me." A third voice broke in. Keres turned to see the gray-haired form of Arlentor striding in her direction. He again appeared in the guise of a young boy. It was unexpected, and her confusion must have showed on her face for he sniffed, "I choose to ride in human for today. Does this bother you?"

"No, of course not." Ordinarily, she would have been slightly annoyed by his attitude. Today, it barely phased her. She watched as the werecat climbed into the saddle, taking a place directly in front of where she would sit.

A hand descended onto her shoulder. Turning, she found that Eragon had moved closer to her. For a few, long moments, they looked at each other. Her eyes began to prickle and she lowered them quickly, afraid that she would cry in front of her master. To her surprise, he merely grasped her by the shoulders, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to her forehead. As he quickly drew away, she heard the whispered words clearly meant only for her. "Travel safe, my daughter."

She nodded, unable to speak, and quickly turned to scramble up Vikonyx leg and into the saddle. She leaned back, tightening the straps on her legs and making sure that Arlentor was securely buckled in. It barely registered as Eragon removed the armor from the chest and quickly tucked it into one of the Vikonyx's lower-hanging saddlebags. Keres stared at the armored neck in front of her, willing the tears not to fall down her cheeks. She didn't move as Vikonyx bunched her muscles and launched herself into the sky. Nor did she acknowledge as Saphira and Eragon rose into the air beside them, matching pace with the black dragon as she angled westward.

Keres barely mustered the heart to look around her as they rose higher and higher into the air. Everywhere she turned made her heart ache. There was no plain, no mountain, no lake, and no stream that didn't hold some precious memory of her childhood. But still she looked. And the tears flowed freely down her cheeks now as she gazed upon Vrenbana. It felt as though it took only minutes before they were cresting the peaks of the ring of mountains. Putting on speed, Saphira swerved in front of Vikonyx. The black dragon turned slightly so that she and the sapphire dragon were circling each other. Their wing-tips were nearly touching. Eragon's touch on her mind was gentle. There were no words, only emotions. Only grief and an overwhelming pride that sent the tears flowing faster. Even Saphira briefly communicated, though Keres suspected the she-dragon had spoken more to Vikonyx.

And then it was over. Vikonyx banked left, soaring over the peak of the nearest mountain and out into the lands beyond. "KERES!" The cry echoed across the mountains and she turned in the saddle. Eragon was brandishing Brisingr above his head. The sapphire blade winked and flashed in the rosy, morning light. Saphira sent a booming roar after them. The sound rumbled over the peaks, setting of avalanches on two or three. Drawing Skraván, Keres waved the sword above her head in a final salute. A pennant of black flame scorched the clouds as Vikonyx returned the roar of farewell. Then Keres turned to face forward in the saddle; to the retreating night, and the task that had been placed upon her shoulders.


	40. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

As anticipated, the representatives from the Magician's Guild were less than pleased with Thane's answer. Even Vanth's confident, carefully arranged expression wavered for a moment, showing his displeasure at the announcement. Seker had been openly hostile, even going so far as to risk the faintest of brushes with Thane's mind. This, more than anything else, had flared a spark of anger in the young Dragon Rider's belly. Evaríncel had responded with an explosive roar that set the vast majority of the camp cowering into their tents. The noise had prompted an automatic shifting of Thane's fingers to Kveykva's hilt, a gesture that, luckily, the magicians seemed to take as a response to Seker's impudence.

"Be careful magician. Attempt such a foolish action again and you may find the results to be . . . unpleasant." He drew out the last word, as his mentor had often done when threatening him with something particularly devious. It was satisfying to hear Vanth immediately try to alleviate the situation, rebuking Seker harshly while trying to give a non-apologetic apology to the dragon and rider. It also gave Thane a leg-up in the negotiations, because he now had the option of rescinding his offer due to Seker's provocative action. Not that Vanth was willing to admit his disadvantage. Indeed, even after the incident, it had taken roughly an hour to convince the magicians that go along with his plan.

Luckily, Thane had discussed his possible excuses with Evaríncel long before going to visit with the magic-users. They had spent the better part of the night trying to come up with some reasonable excuse for Arya's demands. He had explained, in some detail, how the white dragon's youth meant that the amount of weight he could carry and still fly at full speed was limited. And speed, Thane had added seriously, was of the essence since the tribes were in constant danger so long as the creature roamed free. Admittedly, it had slightly irked Evaríncel for his rider to claim he was weaker than he was, but even the dragon had seen the necessity of it.

The one thing Thane had going for him was that the Dragon Riders still technically outranked the Magician's Guild in the grand scheme of Alagaësia, despite their low numbers. With that in mind, they could not afford to insult him too much. In fact, Thane suspected that they had expected him to refuse their offer outright. Accepting, even with such restrictions as he was demanding, put them in an awkward position. If they refused, it would look as if the Magician's Guild was refusing to cooperate with the riders. Luckily, Nikkal had taken very little convincing and actually began to advocate on his behalf. By noon, the Magician's Guild had agreed to his terms.

This, of course, meant that he had to spend a few hours with Evaríncel figuring out how to deal with a mission while escorting a magician. It would, he assured his partner, be little more than an escort mission. He certainly didn't expect Nikkal to do much in terms of helping them bring down the creature. The vast majority of people in the Magician's Guild could do little more than mend cuts and bruises.

"But if she's good enough to come with Vanth and Seker, in spite of her youth, then it's likely that she has uncommon potential." Evaríncel pointed out.

Thane lost quite a bit of sleep over the conundrum that now faced him. Planning this mission would have been difficult, even with the added stress. Even with the testimony of the tribesmen, he had only a vague notion of where the creature would actually be. The best they could do was narrow it down to an area of about 25 miles at the edge of the grasslands that bumped up against The Spine. This meant that not only was there a good chance of missing the creature on the plains if they flew too high, there was also a chance that it could be hiding in the brush that cloaked the feet of the mountains. The ideal place to face it was on the plains, where Evaríncel would have the advantage of movement. However, if the creature should have made a den in the mountains, it might be necessary for Thane to go in on foot and flush it out. The white dragon was wholly against this last idea, but could come up with no better tactic. It would be impossible for Evaríncel to rescue him if he was in thick brush and beneath the cover of trees. The best they could come up with was to set down inside the creature's suspected territory and try to lure it out with raw meat and flame. If that failed, then Thane would just have to hunt on foot.

Of course, with Nikkal, there had to be extra contingencies. There were several secrets that the Dragon Riders guarded zealously. It would be imperative that his every move be carefully considered to avoid giving away anything too damaging. Also, Thane didn't want her reporting back to the Magician's Guild, as they would no doubt be commanding her to. He was unwilling to ask her to blatantly lie or disobey their orders, so all that was left was for him to ensure that she didn't know where they were.

By the time that he was supposed to meet her at the edge of camp, Thane was pretty sure he was going to fall asleep in the saddle. Still, he had kept himself from replenishing his strength with the few gems he had on his person. If he needed them in his hunt, they would be sorely missed. So it was with dark circles beneath his eyes that he passed the last row and tents and saw the female magic-user standing at the edge of the encampment. Thane couldn't help but notice that all of the tribesmen were pointedly ignoring her. They stepped around her with blank looks, acting as if she didn't exist. Admittedly, she was taking it rather well. She stood with her chin held high, surveying the world around her with an expression of guarded curiosity. It was not, however, to the point of imperiousness. Almost grudgingly, Thane felt a sliver of admiration for the young woman.

"Admiration? Is that what you're calling it?" Amusement was clear in Evaríncel's tone.

_Shut up. _

Approaching her, he bowed. "My lady, thank you for being so punctual. We have a long way to go today."

She blinked, apparently a bit surprised by the courtesy. She recovered quickly, however, and flashed him a dazzling smile. "It's not every day that one gets the chance to travel with a Dragon Rider." She glanced around, "Is our ride nearby?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a black shadow fell over them. Looking up, Thane watched Evaríncel circle lower and lower, trying his best not to disrupt the canvas tents with the wind from his wings. He landed, folding his vast, translucent wings, and strode forward so that he towered over the two humans. Nikkal flinched, but otherwise held her ground.

Evaríncel's deep voice growled in Thane's mind. "Alright, I will admit that she has guts." He lowered his massive head toward her, sniffing deeply.

She glanced nervously at Thane, who gestured to his partner, "Evaríncel bids you welcome on this journey and says he looks forward to traveling with you."

"I thought we agreed that we were not going to lie to her." Evaríncel commented.

_Well, if you had any manners, that's what you would have said. _

"Manners are to a dragon what gems are to a sword. Pretty, but completely unnecessary." The dragon sniffed, rolling a large, white eye at the young woman. "She's soft, Thane. Be sure to put a blanket on the saddle so that her delicate posterior won't be chafed."

His hostility surprised the young rider. _Evaríncel! What has gotten into you?_

The white tail flicked from side to side. "Arya-ebrithil has decreed that I have to carry her. That does not mean I have to rejoice at having a magician in my saddle."

_If she were an elf, would you mind?_

"That is a stupid question."

Thane suddenly realized that Nikkal was staring expectantly at him. "Beg your pardon?"

She raised an eyebrow, "I asked if he was safe to ride."

"Of course!" Thane reached over, rubbing his partner's shoulder. "If you tried to go near him without me there, you would likely have problems, but, for the duration of this trip, he will not harm you."

"Unless, of course, he deems me an enemy." Nikkal's comment was so straightforward that it caught Thane off guard. She smiled wryly. "I'm sure that you are every bit as concerned about me turning on you as we were you turning on us." The commentary was so casual, it was actually quite encouraging. The fact that they both had a realistic, working knowledge of the situation between their two groups would make interactions on this trip much simpler. She extended a hand, "How about an agreement? I will not delve too deeply into your practices, if you agree to extend the same courtesy?"

Thane took the offered hand, "That sounds fair, but only if we both agree that the other can chose to not answer a question, if they deem the answer too revealing."

Nikkal's smile was radiant as she laughed. "It sounds as though this trip will be as much a battle of wits as it will a hunt. How intriguing!" She tossed her golden hair. "Well, shall we get underway?"

It took only moments to transfer her small satchel of belonging to one of Evaríncel's saddlebags. Actually getting her onto the dragon took much longer. Evaríncel shifted and fidgeted, rolling his shoulders as she tried to get settled. Given that she was to be sitting directly behind him (it would have been far too awkward to ask her to sit in front), it made for a difficult time. The leg straps could be rigged to fit two people, but they were not designed for it. This meant that each movement of the dragon made for unintentional, and rather embarrassing, contact between the Thane and the young magician as they struggled to get her settled.

Finally, she huffed, "I sense that he might be less enthusiastic about my presence than you let on."

His cheeks flushing, Thane smiled sheepishly. "Dragons are not beasts of burden. Passengers are not typically welcome."

"So you lied?"

Thane could sense Evaríncel's desire to make a smart comment, but his anger over being forced to carry a magician won out and he remained silent.

_Wow you really are upset about this. _The response was a low rumble from deep within the barrel chest that rattled both Thane and Nikkal's teeth.

Ignoring his partner, he spoke, instead, to the young woman. "Well . . . what should I have said? 'Hi, nice to meet you. My dragon might try to dump you at 500 feet. Hope that's not too much of a deterrent'?"

To his surprise, she began to laugh again. The sound was clear, and melodious, like the ringing of a bell. "You know, that might have been slightly less off-putting." Finally settling into her seat, she allowed him to strap her legs in.

He patted the only span of the dragon's side that he could reach from his seat on the saddle. "Alright, let's go." _And please be easy. PLEASE._

A grudging acknowledgement sounded over their mental link. The wings rose and fell, lifting them slowly off the ground. The ascent was as smooth as any Thane had ever felt. The dragon spiraled upward in broad, sweeping circles that took him over the entire area of the camp. As they reached flying height, he leaned back in the saddle. _So West first, as we agreed?_

"No" The reply was quick and firm. "Not until she can't see where we're going."

_Are we really going to do this now?_

"Yes. Yes we are."

Turning in the saddle, Thane fixed his gaze on Nikkal, who was gazing around at the landscape as if she were in another world. She met his gaze, wonder clearly etched in every line of her face. "Begging your pardon ma'am, but I have to ask you to wear this." He said, holding up the make-shift blindfold in his hand.

She blinked, and every trace of delight and wonder faded from her face, leaving nothing there but sheet outrage. "Absolutely not."

Evaríncel growled with impatience. "I told you we should have just knocked her out when she wasn't paying attention. That way we could have just said she fell asleep. Now she's going to be suspicious."

Ignoring his partner, Thane persisted. "I'm afraid I must insist."

His politeness must have caught her attention because her expression softened slightly. "Why?"

"I'm assuming that you have been instructed to report back to your superiors on our location." The flush that colored her cheeks told Thane that his suspicion had been correct. "I can't have them following us and, potentially, mucking up our plan. I can't guarantee their safety and it would reflect poorly upon the Riders if we let members of the Magician's Guild get killed during a job."

"So you're doing this to protect them?"

"Among other things." He thought that wit might serve him best here, as it had put her at ease only a few minutes previously.

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if she could figure out whether he was telling the truth or not. Finally, she sighed, "Very well." He made to offer her the blindfold, but she shook her head, grinning mischievously. "And spare you the awkwardness of having to physically blindfold me? I think not, sir."

He spent several, uncomfortable minutes trying to knot the blindfold around her head without catching her hair, trying it too tightly, or trying it too loosely. The faint brushing of his fingers against her silky hair and the back of her head didn't help matters as each sent a fresh wave of heat through his cheeks and ears. He could see the faint twitching at the corners of her jaw that indicated that she was trying very hard not to laugh at him.

"Still intent on not knocking her out?" Evaríncel quipped innocently.

Thane groaned, finally getting the blindfold in place and checking to make sure it worked. If this was the way this mission was going to go, it was going to be a long couple of days. Steeling himself for the aerial acrobatics he knew were going to begin in the next couple of minutes, Thane closed his eyes and tried to catch up on his lost sleep.


	41. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

_That's great. Now turn your head to the right. A little more. Perfect! _Separating her mind from her partner's, Keres quickly sketched the lay of the land onto the maps Eragon had given her. Her skills as an artist were rudimentary at best, but with Vikonyx helping her, Keres quickly marked out the main features. Each item was carefully color coded. Cobblestone roads were marked in red. Trails and dirt roads were drawn in gold. Rivers and lakes were blue while low hills were sketched in circles of green. Taller hills appeared as orange and, most importantly, cities were drawn in black. The entire process was going much more slowly than Keres had anticipated. Though she frequently shared thoughts with her partner, she had only rarely shared vision with her. It was always unnerving to see the bright colors of the world dimmed to dull, muted shades. In Vikonyx's sight, it was black that was most prominent. Shadows seemed hundreds of times deeper than they normally were. Still, after she had gotten over the initial disorientation, she had been able to puzzle out the shapes her partner viewed from just below the clouds.

They had been lucky in the fact that part of Golrazi had already been mapped. The elves had been able to provide about fifty miles worth of information north of the forest border. Their information ended at a series of cities which created a jagged border. It was these cities that Keres and Vikonyx had decided to use as their reference points. The first two days had gone very quickly as other riders had already mapped the parts of Golrazi that bordered Vrenbana. Eragon had decided that it would behoove the Riders to know their immediate neighbors, so they had been able to quickly skip past the first few hundred miles.

It was now nearly dawn on the third day and Keres had decided to begin her investigation in a city nearly fifteen miles away. She had just put the finishing touches on the outline of the city when the tall grass around her began to ripple. Vikonyx pulled out of her sharp dive a mere twenty feet above the ground and quickly dropped back to earth. The lush grass bent beneath her weight as she padded over to look at the drawing.

Keres looked up at her. _Well? What do you think?_

"It is not bad. There is certainly room for improvement, but it is a passable attempt."

Keres rolled her eyes, swatting at the armored muzzle as she carefully packed her equipment away and rose to her feet. "Well, time for me to do my share of the work." Though she would never have admitted it, she was rather nervous. This would be the first time she would have to do reconnaissance without Eragon nearby. Most of the other apprentices had gone on small recon training missions outside of Vrenbana. However, due to her unusual appearance, Keres had never been afforded the opportunity. She was too easy to recognize, Eragon had said, particularly amongst the dark-haired peoples that lived in the area immediately surrounding Vrenbana. Out here, so far into Golrazi, that was a moot point.

"The people of Golarzi," she explained to Vikonyx as she began rummaging through her bags, "frequently dye their hair all kinds of colors. It's a colorful culture, so having white hair actually won't be a bad thing here. Most people will assume that I dyed it. Still, I'll need at least one other color so that I don't look too much like an outsider." Keres quickly found the parcel she was looking for. Eragon had snuck it into her saddlebags at some point before her departure. Clearly he had expected her to forget that she needed Golrazi currency and clothing. Had he not been so entirely correct, she would have been annoyed. As it was, she had thanked him aloud several times upon discovering the bag this morning.

Women were not allowed to wear pants in Golrazi, but Keres still intended to wear a pair of shorts beneath the long skirt that Eragon had sent. The young rider quickly changed clothes, donning an elaborately embroidered blouse that matched the skirt that swept the ground at her feet. As heavy as they had looked when she removed them from the bag, she now found that they were actually very light and breathed well. She completed her look with a long sash that wrapped around her waist and hung over her right shoulder. She looked herself over in her mirror before giving a small nod. "Now for the hair."

She had discovered long ago, to her dismay, that it was impossible to change both her hair and eye color. Luckily, she had Eragon had discovered that good, old-fashioned dying worked perfectly. Also, she could use her magic to speed the process, if nothing else. An hour later, she was tucking her hair up into a bun while two, sky-blue locks hung down on either side of her face. Streaks of blue ran throughout her hair, a stark contrast to its usual snowy hue. Still, the hard part was yet to come. Her eyes, she had often been told, were very disconcerting if one was not accustomed to seeing them. The only solution, when going undercover like this, was to cast an illusion just in front of her eyes. It was a tricky piece of magic. She had to ensure that the illusion shifted with her gaze, which was hard enough as it was. But she also had to make sure that the illusion blinked and conveyed emotion just like her real eyes would. The spell was complex, but she had spent hours practicing it. Now, it rolled easily off her tongue and, a moment later, her reflection stared back at her with clear, azure-colored eyes.

As she turned her gaze to her partner, Vikonyx sniffed. "I don't think I will ever be used to that. Those eyes don't suit you."

"They don't have to suit me. They just have to keep me inconspicuous." With one last glance in her mirror, she straightened her shoulders. "Well, I'm off. Sleep, but not too deeply. We're pretty far off the beaten path, but that's no guarantee some hunter won't find you."

"If that should happen, I will be glad to turn the tables on him."

Vikonyx laughed and cast one last glance at her partner, "Be safe. If you haven't heard from me by nightfall . . . I've probably been abducted and you'll need to come rescue me."

"Oh thanks, that's reassuring."

"I do what I can."

She ran parallel to the road for nearly two hours before finally emerging onto the well-traveled road. She had to wait until the coast was clear before darting into the center of the road, straightening her ruffled garments, and striding calmly toward the city that loomed in the distance. There was no guard-check to get into the city, which surprised her slightly. She would have imagined that, with a war blazing in the west, there would have been at least a few security measures. However, even after she entered the city, it was a good 10 to 15 minutes before she finally saw a guard. There two posted outside a shop that, according to the sign, was a high-end tailors shop.

A short ways down the street, two more guards flanked an armorer's shop. Just beyond that, a group of eight guards stood around the entrance to a bank. However, when she got to the market, she could only see one group of four guards that patrolled in a square around the outer edges. No doubt they would keep petty criminals from stealing anything, but anyone with any real experience or drive would have no trouble dodging them. It didn't make sense to her.

Shrugging off the concern, she made her way through the crowded market. The sheer variety of goods astounded her. There was cloth of every fabric and color. There were stalls selling jewelry and dye and sashes and belts. Smiths sold cutlery and small daggers that looked more fashionable than functional. And the foods . . . oh the foods! There were numerous different types of breads and fruits and vegetables. But what struck her most were the meats. There must have been thirty different kinds of meat for sale. Some vendors sold fresh, raw meats. Others were selling cooked meats that filled the air with some of the most tantalizing scents she had ever encountered.

The crowds in front of these stalls were the largest, so Keres decided to start her reconnaissance there. Slipping into the middle of the crowd, she ducked her head down, pretending to scrutinize the cooked meats. For a few moments, the barrage of noise from all directions was overwhelming. Then, as the minutes ticked by, she began to focus. The calls of the vendors could be tuned out, as could much of the general chatter. As she narrowed her search, a certain conversations began to stand out.

" . . . brother over in Amrit. He says they're conscripting all boys older than 14 and all men younger than 50. I can't imagine . . ."

" . . . shortage of rice. All the main farms are on the west coast and now that we've lost that . . ."

"The Shadrin said that they wouldn't come any farther than Rajira. We've got nothing to worry about here."

The rush of information was swift, and Keres had to work hard in order to consider each piece as she heard it. Every few minutes, she moved, following certain conversations as the participants made their way around the market. As each conversation ended, she would shift her position again until she could find another which contained useful information. Most of what she heard was pure speculation, but there were several gems amongst the rabble. It appeared that there was a major trade in pearls off the coast which had become almost nonexistent with the arrival of the Bogerk. The only place that was still transporting its wares to the rest of the country was a company in the far northern reaches of Golrazi. Also, the trade in cold water fish from the same area was doing as well as it ever had. It appeared that the Bogerk were doing everything in their power to remain in the normally temperate regions of the coast. It was a relief to know that she and Vikonyx wouldn't have to brave the colder climes of Golrazi in search of King Rickhard.

Also, most of the gossip had the Bogerk currently assaulting a city named Navarie. Though the name was unknown to her, it was good to have a point of reference. Maps were a rare commodity here. As people rarely went more than two days journey beyond their home cities, most commoners didn't need to know what the larger country looked like. The rarity of these maps meant that they were usually very expensive. Also, Golrazi maps were more well known for their embellishment and decorations than for their accuracy. The elves reported that the maps often misrepresented the distance between certain points and the location of certain landmarks.

Keres was standing just in front of a stall selling jewelry, listening to a conversation between two women involving the rumored conscription of men residing in the western territories when another mind touched hers. For a moment, she froze. The contact was most certainly not Vikonyx. But neither did it feel human. A second later, she relaxed as she recognized the touch.

_Arlentor?_

"Indeed. I have been searching for you. Even with your . . . unique consciousness, I must say you were quite difficult to find."

_I wondered where you'd gotten off to. Have you been in the city all day?_

"I have. Watching you and the dragon sleep was not necessarily my idea of a fun morning, so I decided to come and enjoy the sights for myself."

_And have you enjoyed them?_

"I must say I have. The food is particularly excellent. And no one thinks to punish a cat when it steals a bit of meat from a vendor. Several of the women have actually offered me food. Apparently cats are a bit of a novelty for them." She had a brief, mental image of young girl leaning down to offer the grey werecat a piece of cooked meat. Then it vanished as he spoke again. "At any rate, I believe I have found something interesting. Where you aware that this city has a small military academy?"

_No, I wasn't. _

"Well, it does. And there happens to be quite a few interesting things to be learned here. Now I've gathered a fair bit of intel, but I can only get so close before these barbarians shoo me awaywith kicks and, would you believe it, rocks. They threw rocks! AT ME!" The indignity in his voice was so strong that Keres had to resist the urge to laugh. A moment later, she realized that not laughing out loud didn't help when having a mental conversation. "It's not funny you boorish harridan. If you intend to be rude, I can return to camp and leave you to research on your own."

_Eka baen Arlentor. Truly. I am sorry. Your help is much appreciated._

For a few moments, he was silent. Then the young werecat relented, "I thought as much. Well, there are a fair amount of young ladies hanging around, watching the men train. I'm sure if you were to join the crowd, you might be able to pick up something useful. Perhaps, you could even have a conversation with one of the men after they are finished. Human males seem to enjoy the attention of pretty girls."

_Arlentor, are you telling me you think I'm pretty?_

"Quite the opposite, I was going to suggest that you find a mask or create an illusion."

_Very funny. _

"I try my best. Now, hurry up. I'm here." He sent a mental image of a series of streets and side roads that he had taken to get to the academy. Along with these came an image that looked like he had scaled one of the buildings and looked down on the city from above. Concentrating on this last image, Keres glanced around her.

_I think I'm pretty close to you. It should only be a few minutes. _

"Understood. Oh and Keres?"

_Hm?_

"Do bring some lunch with you. I'm quite famished."


	42. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

They had been flying for roughly an hour before Thane felt comfortable removing Nikkal's blindfold. At that point, Evaríncel had completed several aerial maneuvers to ensure that she had no idea where they were going. In truth, Thane had actually gotten a bit nauseous himself, but he would never have admitted that to anyone, even to himself. Before removing the blindfold, he had warned her. "Don't try and take it in all at once. Let yourself adjust before you start looking around too much."

Of course, she hadn't listened to him. Two or three minutes later had found her vomiting over the white-scaled sides. Only Thane's repeated pleas, and a promise to thoroughly clean any affected scales, had kept his partner from flipping to one side. It had been nearly twenty minutes before she had recovered enough to sit up and look around again. Still, after the immediate sickness, she had settled into their routine quite well. By the third day, she seemed completely at ease, even when they lost sight of the ground and soared over clouds. He had quickly discovered that she was smart, inquisitive, and interested in everything. Thane found that he quite enjoyed the conversations they shared over the fires at night. He showed her what the Dragon Riders had taught him about surviving in the wild, a skill harmless enough to pass on. In turn, she explained the various problems the Magician's Guild faced in the major cities.

At the end of the third day, Thane figured that it was finally time to let her in on the landmarks they were looking for. After all, they were far enough away to where she couldn't mentally contact her comrades in any major city, and an extra set of eyes could be extremely useful in this situation. So he had spent nearly an hour explaining what they were looking for and what they would do when they reached that area. Evaríncel had disagreed with his decision, but Thane had overridden him. _It helps me to feel like I didn't kidnap her._

"You and your feelings are going to get us both into trouble one of these days." Evaríncel had snorted.

But it wasn't until the afternoon of day four that anything interesting really happened. Thane had been scanning the ground for their landmarks when Nikkal spoke up.

"So your dragon, what's he like?"

Caught off guard, Thane had to gather his thoughts before responding. It was difficult to speak of his partner as if the dragon didn't have thoughts or feelings, but he couldn't reveal too much about how intelligent dragons actually were. "Evaríncel? Well, he's quiet usually, doesn't like to make too much noise. He's more level headed than most, not as hyper-aggressive as most dragons are. But when it comes time to do our job, he never backs down."

"I can tell." She said, glancing past him toward the long, serpentine neck and armored head. "He seems to be very well trained."

There was a moment of utter silence as Thane's eyes widened in horror at her statement.

"What . . . did . . . she . . . just . . . say?" The pauses in Evaríncel's voice were a clear indicator that he was very, VERY angry.

To his partner, Thane quickly said, _She didn't mean it that way. She's just a girl. She can't know any better. You're not going to punish her for something she couldn't know, are you? You know that sort of knowledge is jealously guarded. _

To Nikkal, he said, "Well, we don't really train them in that sense. What you're thinking about is like training a dog or a horse. With those animals, you really just teach them behaviors that you expect them to repeat on command. Dragons are much, much smarter than almost every other animal. They can think, rationalize, and make decisions. It makes sense if you consider what they are and what they can do. Nature wouldn't create a creature that can grow to be the size of a mountain, fly, and breath fire, and then make it dumb. Particularly when you consider how aggressive most dragons can be. If they couldn't work things out between them, they'd be nearly extinct as a species." It was very difficult, having to choose his words so carefully. Evaríncel's indignation was almost overwhelming, so much so that Thane felt a sliver of anger in his own chest. Still, his words had a small effect. He felt a bit of the tension drain out of the body beneath the saddle.

She blinked, "So you're saying that they can make decisions on their own?"

Thane laughed, more to relieve some of his tension than because anything was funny. "Well, look at Evaríncel. What don't you see?"

She turned in her seat, studying every aspect of the dragon. With each passing moment, her expression grew more and more puzzled. Finally, she turned back to him. "I don't know."

"Reins" The movement he said it, she whipped around, as if she didn't believe him. He saw wonder spread over her face and continued, "We don't steer them. And honestly, if we disagreed on where to go, he would probably win given that he has the wings and ability to fly. Also, he outweighs me by a couple hundred pounds and, again, he can breathe fire. But we're usually pretty much in agreement." As he was speaking, he saw her face suddenly flush as her eyes went wide. "What?" he asked, glancing around to see what she was reacting to.

"Does that mean he can understand me?" She squeaked.

For a moment, Thane stared. _What do I say?! _Riders were prevented from saying too much about their dragons. The elves, dwarves, and urgals all knew that the dragons were equal in intelligence to all other races and treated them as such. Humans remained the one race that continued to assume that the dragons were dumb brutes. The Riders had always taken great care to keep it that way. It meant that people might talk around the dragons when they might neglect to talk around their riders. It also meant that the Dragon Riders had a distinct advantage over their foes since they had two rational minds to strategize and plain whereas their enemies assumed that the rider made all the decisions.

Evaríncel gave the faintest shrug of his shoulders, still rather angry. "You could always lie or you could tell the truth and I could drop her, so it wouldn't matter anyways."

_Evaríncel!_

"Do not judge me until you are constantly treated like a dumb beast of burden. Magically or otherwise, I possess more power in my tail than most humans could ever dream of. Still, they insist on acting as if dragons are nothing more than an exotic means of transportation."

_You're right._ Thane acknowledged, _I can't really understand how frustrating that must be. And I'm sorry that it must be so, but you can't blame them for knowledge they have no way of acquiring. _

"I can blame her for rudeness." The petty remark told Thane that he was close to winning this argument.

_If it was intentional, then you would have more cause. Unintentional rudeness is still bad, but far more forgivable, wouldn't you say?_

There was silence for a moment, then Evaríncel let out a long, frustrated snarl, lashing his tail. The movement caused them to sway in the air, but Thane could feel that his partner agreed, however grudgingly, with his words. _Now, one more time, what should I tell her?_

"My answer on that hasn't changed." The white dragon snorted. "You should lie."

_That feels wrong. _

"Well, try telling an Elf-truth."

Realizing that the slight pause in conversation had caught Nikkal's attention, he smiled. "To an extent." _Elf-truths save the day again._ Due to the elves' way of telling partial truths so that they could speak in the Ancient Language, the people of Vrenbana had dubbed any answer that was only partly true an Elf-truth. "They are very good at determining intentions. And because their sense of smell is much stronger than ours, they can usually discover how a person is feeling. Sometimes, they know it better than the person actually experiencing . . ."

His words were cut off, mid-sentence, as Evaríncel lurched sideways. A blast of wind whipped across Thane's face, stinging his cheeks in its intensity. Had he not been strapped in, it might have thrown him from the saddle. As it was, he shifted sideways a few inches before tightening his grip on the handlebars in front of him. A roar of surprise and pain nearly burst Thane's eardrums as his partner tumbled through the air. It was a sickening sensation, watching the entire world spin as they fell out of the sky. Nikkal screamed and he felt her arms tighten painfully around him. Her hair stung his cheeks as it blew haphazardly around both their faces. In truth, it was only a span of seconds before the white dragon righted himself, but it felt like much, much longer. The dragon leveled out, but even as he righted himself, Thane felt a faint burning sensation around his left shoulder blade.

_Are you alright?!_

"Mostly. My left wing aches at the joint, I'm not sure how bad it is." He let out a long, low growl of what Thane recognized to be disgust. "It's a speed stream. I knew there was one above the upper end of the plains, but I didn't think we were this far north."

_Well, land and let me take a look at it._

The white dragon growled again, banking to the left and wincing as his muscles flexed and his wings flared slightly. "Nonsense, we're easily 30 miles west of where we should be. I can get us that far."

_Think Evaríncel. If you injure yourself worse, you won't be able to get us out of trouble if that monster comes after us. Let me look at your wing. _

For a moment, Thane thought the dragon might ignore him. Then he heard a rumble of assent and Evaríncel began to descend.

Nikkal, who seemed to have finally recovered her composure, spoke up in a shaking voice. "Wh . . . what just happened?"

"We hit a speed stream."

"A what?"

Thane turned in his seat to look at her, "There are certain places in the sky where air runs in streams, just like water does here on the ground. Inside these speed streams, the air moves much faster than the rest of the air around it. Usually, you can see changes in the clouds that tell you where they are, but it's so cloudless today that one snuck up on us. Evaríncel was in it before he even knew what was happening." He could see that her face was pale, but color was already beginning to return to her cheeks. "Sorry for scaring you. Are you alright?"

"Well, I have a new recurring nightmare to look forward to, but otherwise I think I'm okay."

Even this small bit of humor was a good sign and he returned her small smile. "We're landing now. Evaríncel's hurt and I want to tend to him."

"He's hurt?"

"Yes, but not badly. I just want to make sure he's alright before we get down to hunting this beast."

They were silent as the white dragon circled closer to the ground. At this low altitude, Thane could feel the rhythmic throbbing of his partner's injury as the wings began to beat harder, slowing them for landing. Even so, they landed more heavily than usual and, as Evaríncel knelt for them to dismount, Thane noted the awkward way in which he held his wing.

The young rider leapt down, reaching back up to help Nikkal off the dragon's back. That done, he quickly removed the saddlebags and saddle so that he could get an unimpeded look at the injury. With gentle fingers, he probed the muscles and tendons, searching for the source of the pain. Within minutes, he had discovered the problem.

"Damn, it's a strained muscle."

Nikkal, who had moved off several paces away and was stretching her stiff muscles, looked over at him. "But that's not that bad is it? Nothing's broken."

Thane shook his head. "It would be easier if something was broken or torn. Then I could just fix it with a spell. Strains and sprains are different. There's nothing really wrong that we can fix. The muscle is intact, it's just sore. There isn't really a magical solution to this." _And worse, we're miles farther north than we should be. How did this happen?_

He always thought he had a pretty good estimation of Evaríncel's traveling speed. It had been correct on their journey from Vrenbana. Thane was usually very good at estimating traveling time relative to speed of flight. What was more, for a rider to make that kind of mistake was uncommon, but not unheard of. For a dragon, that kind of mistake was practically incomprehensible. Something didn't make sense here.

He continued his examination of Evaríncel's wing, making sure that there were no problems that he had missed. The dragon had now settled into the grass, groaning occasionally as Thane tugged and pushed on the injured area. The rumbling voice broke into Thane's mind, "I'm fine, I told you. It just hurts." His tail slapped the ground in frustration, making Nikkal jump. "I can't believe I overshot by so much. What went wrong?"

_It's not just your fault. I missed it too._

"The landmarks are supposed to be pretty clear. How could both of us miss every indicator?"

Suddenly, something clicked in Thane's head. Abruptly rising to his feet, he strode over to the saddlebags and pulled out a map. After taking a few moments to confirm his suspicions, he called out to his partner. _Hey Evaríncel, the Plains Speed Stream is supposed to run just south of Gil'ead and over Flam, right?_

"That's correct."

_Well, well then whatever we just hit is not the Plains Speed Stream. _

Evaríncel's tail flicked in surprise and his head cocked slightly sideways. "How do you figure that?"

_As we were landing, I'm pretty sure I saw Huranine_ _off to our north. It was too far west, and too small, to have been Gil'ead. And it couldn't have been Daret, because we would have seen the Ninor River. _

The triangular head snaked forward and the white dragon regarded the map with a single, luminous eye. "That doesn't make any sense. Speed streams just don't appear. And they certainly don't move, not unless something catastrophic happens." He snorted, shaking his head. "Riders travel this way all the time, transporting the eggs or on their regular patrols. How could this have escaped their notice?"

_Well, we were flying above the usual height. The riders ferrying the eggs fly relatively low so as to keep the eggs as warm as possible. Even patrol height is much lower than what we were flying at. Maybe it's only bad at higher altitudes._

"Is that what we're looking for?" Nikkal's voice broke the silence of the plains and drew both of their gazes. She was standing about 15 feet away, pointing off to the southwest. Sure enough, in the midst of all the grasses was a single, gnarled tree. Its branches were knobby and crooked, like the fingers of an old man. Despite the green around it, the tree was utterly bare, stripped of all foliage.

Thane moved over to stand beside her, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. "A barren tree in the middle of the grassland, one that looks completely out of place; that fits the bill pretty well." Pulling his notebook out of his pocket, he checked over what he had written a few nights before. "According to what the hunters said, this is the last place where the beast was sighted. There should be some tracks since there hasn't been any rain in a few days and the grasses keep the ground fairly stable." He looked around him, "Nikkal, you go that way. I'll check over here."

To Evaríncel, he said, _You have a different prospective than we do. Look around. You might be able to find something we would miss._

The dragon nodded, climbing to his feet and stretching his neck up as high as it would go. Thane began to move slowly toward the south, placing his feet carefully as he scanned the ground for any clues. The thick grasses meant that any tracks might be hidden, so he had to take great care to part the stalks and search every spot before stepping. If he destroyed a track unintentionally, it could derail this entire operation. 10 minutes passed, then 20, then 30.

The sun was just beginning to go down when Evaríncel called out to him. "Thane" The dragon's usually deep voice had dropped another octave, something that only happened when the dragon was very upset about something. He was standing stock still, his neck stretched out to its full length as he sniffed at a patch of ground.

Thane hurried over to where his partner stood, calling to Nikkal as he went. The dragon gestured with his nose to a section of trampled grass. Slowly, Thane began to scan the ground as he moved toward the area. He didn't want to risk destroying any tracks by mistake. It turned out that his precautions were unwarranted. As he broke into the ring of flattened grasses, he saw what had disturbed his partner. Several tracks pressed deep into the soft soil, showing even through the layer of grass. Brushing aside the now browning stalks, Thane stared down at them in awe.

The back paws, at least, they appeared to be the back paws, were wolf-life, but far larger than anything Thane had ever seen. He held his hand over them and was shocked to discover that the spread was larger by a good inch or more. However, the center paw-pad was more rounded and ovular than he had expected. Even more impressive, the claw marks at the top of each toe were deep and slightly elongated, as if they had dug into the earth when the creature moved. But it was the front paws that most captured his attention. The prints were longer than any he had seen from a wolf. Two separate pads marked each digit, as if the creature had something akin to fingers. And they were deep, the kind of print made by a creature of considerable bulk.

By now, Nikkal had reached him and was staring down at the tracks as well. She was gaping. "It . . . it must be massive."

"If these dimensions are correct, then yes, that would be an accurate statement." Thane hoped his attempt at humor would mask the uncertainty which had bloomed in his stomach. "Suddenly, I'm glad I brought along an extra set of eyes."

She met his gaze and a weak smile flitted across her face, "Suddenly, I'm wondering if I was stupid for coming."

And in spite of his words, Thane couldn't help but this that she might be correct.

* * *

Thanks for all the wonderful comments! Please continue to give me feedback. I really appreciate it.


	43. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

As it turned out, Arlentor was absolutely correct. After watching the last hour of swordplay at the military academy, Keres had managed to attract the attention of one of the older boys, a youth of some 19 years. It had taken minimal persuading to get him alone and, upon doing so, minimal effort to overpower his mind. The insights she gained were few, but crucial. Due to the fragmented nature of the country, even the individual cities didn't always get along with each other, the central government was struggling to raise a proper army. The cities usually kept a fighting force within them, but they were so suspicious of each other that none of the eastern cities were willing to give up their protection. As a result, the few garrisons they had been able to send to fight the invaders had been rag-tag groups of men plucked from their livelihoods, or else released from prison with the promise that, if they lived, they would be free men.

_It's really no wonder they're losing this way. _Keres had commented to her companions. _Especially if the Bogerk are everything we've heard they are. Even a decently trained army would be enough to overrun most of the country. _

It was Vikonyx who responded first. "They have grown complacent in peace. Alagaësia was too busy with its own power struggles to cause too much trouble in the past. Even now, there is no pressure to expand our borders and, without any other neighbors to keep them vigilant, it seems they have come to see peace as the natural state of things."

"It's true. The state of their eastern border is proof of that." Yawned Arlentor.

Aside from Vrenbana, there were several large cities in the northeastern part of Golrazi that considered themselves independent. They paid taxes to the central government sporadically, if at all. However, the government of Golrazi had long been content to let the cities do as they wished without any real threat of repercussion. As it was, the Dragon Riders weren't even sure if Golrazi knew that the city states had been banding together to form a union. The process had begun nearly 20 years ago and had steadily gained traction. Of course, the Riders weren't in any hurry to tell Golrazi. As Eragon had often said, Dragon Riders should stay out of politics as much as possible.

The following day had dawned without the faintest hint of a city, meaning that Vikonyx had landed in one of the few forested areas that dotted the Golrazi landscape. Keres had spent part of the day cleaning up and detailing her maps. That done, she reviewed the journals she had kept of all the information they had gathered thus far. The full situation was still pretty hazy, but each piece of information helped to put the puzzle together. After adding a few of her new theories to the journal, she had practiced with her sword for a few hours, going through the various forms and motions that Eragon had drilled into her through years of training. She had yet to use Skraván in actual combat, but already the blade felt like an old friend in her hand. It necessitated adjusting her fighting style slightly, adding more slashes and removing some of the thrusts, but the end result was well worth it. The black blade clove even the stalks of the grass around her cleanly in two. The results excited her, but they also instilled a healthy respect for the power of her new sword. This wasn't a sword that would stab a man, this was a sword that would lop off limbs without the slightest bit of effort. It was well named, but not a sword to be used indiscriminately.

After careful inspecting the blade for any chips or dullness, which she didn't find, she set it back in its sheath and found a nearby stream to wash her clothes and bathe in. This was one of the few aspects in which Golrazi surpassed Vrenbana in her mind. Their streams were perfect. The water ran crystal clear over usually stony riverbeds, meaning that there was none of the mud she frequently found in Vrenbana. She was also quickly confirming that Golrazi had earned its nickname: Land of a Thousand Streams. Though they varied in width and length, there seemed to be a stream everywhere she looked. It was making her mapping much harder having to figure out which streams flowed where and connect them to the map the elves had provided.

Keres had just returned from her bath, carrying a bundle of dirty clothes in her hand, when Vikonyx's head snapped up. At the same moment, Arlentor's ears pricked up and settled down into a half-crouch. Sensing the tension, Keres froze, mentally calculating the distance between her and her sword.

_What is it?_

Vikonyx lowered her head, pressing herself against the ground, "People. About half a mile away to the southwest, but they're making enough noise to make the dead. They must be certain that no one is about to be making that much racket."

_Should I check it out?_

"I would." The dragon responded, "You're small enough to go unnoticed in this tall grass. And something doesn't feel right about them being so far off the usual roads."

Keres nodded, glancing over at Arlentor, "Will you come with me?" In response to the quizzical look, she replied, "You can come back and get Vikonyx if things go really badly."

The werecat raised an eyebrow, "If things go that badly, even she might not be able to save you."

_I'm well aware of that but a contingency plan makes me feel better. _

He shrugged, "As you like."

Tugging on her cloak, Keres set off through the grass, placing her feet as carefully as she could. There was a near-constant breeze that blew across the land, swaying the grass almost rhythmically. She had to take care to move with the wind, so that she didn't disturb the regular motion. She had gone about 45 yards when she stumbled upon a worn footpath that wound through the grass. She pulled up sharply to avoid stepping out into open ground. Arlentor, who had been padding silently beside her, streaked across the path, taking up a position almost directly across from her.

_Vikonyx?_

"Yes"

_There's a path here. Not a well-kept one, but it looks frequented enough. I'm guessing this must be the route those people are taking._

"Any sign of them?"

_No, there are no tracks and the ground seems relatively soft. They haven't gotten here yet._

"Well, keep your head down and stay hidden. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."

Breaking the mental contact, Keres settled down into the grass a few feet back from the road. The sun was already touching the horizon, casting long shadows through the grass. This meant that her black cloak kept her well camouflaged in the dying light. She had only waited for about 15 minutes before the sound of horses hooves finally reached her ears. She shrank a little further back into the grass. The horses would certainly smell her, but they were unlikely to spook at her scent alone. Luckily, as she had just taken a bath, she didn't smell like Vikonyx. Arlentor would also not be seen as much of a threat, so it was unlikely that the horses would spook or give them away, but she didn't want to take any chances.

After another five minutes or so, the small group, for it was several people, finally came into sight. There were eight people in all. A man on a large, red-roan horse rode at the head of the small column, a sword at his hip. Behind him walked two men, neither of whom looked terribly happy to be following behind the animals. Each of them held the halter of a horse, both of whom were carrying heavy sacks as well. Next came a man on a black horse with smaller sacks fastened to either side of the saddle. A rope trailed from his saddle. To it was attached a second rope, with either end bound around the hands of two people who were walking slowly behind him. Or rather, the two people who were begin dragged behind his horse. Their sentiments could not have been plainer if they'd been openly weeping.

One was a woman, roughly the same age as Keres. Her long, beautiful hair was tangled and filled with bits of grass. The clothes she wore, though clearly of good make, were stained and dirty. Makeup from her eyes trailed down her face, giving her a pathetic, woe begotten appearance. Beside her, and casting worried glances her way every so often, was a boy who looked to be a few years older. A bloodied bandage was wrapped around his brow and his clothes showed obvious signs that he had been roughed up. Blood stained the collar of his shirt and there was a purpling bruise beneath his left eye.

Behind them rode two more men, their horses each bearing several sacks fastened to the saddles. As Keres watched, the woman stumbled and was rewarded with a sharp smack from one of the men's riding whips. It cracked across her shoulder and she cried out, staggering back to her feet and moving out of his reach.

As she felt Vikonyx watching thought her eyes, Keres reached out to her partner, pausing only to widen her mind so that Arlentor could hear her as well. _What do you think? Slavers? _

"No" The werecat answered. "Slavers would have more humans and fewer bags. My guess is bandits. Merchants wouldn't frequent a road like this. It's far too narrow for caravans."

_And the people?_

"Could be hostages." This time it was Vikonyx who spoke. "They took a few people from those they robbed and could have threatened to kill them if they were followed. Do you think . . ."

The dragon fell silent as the men drew closer and, as the wind shifted, their conversation because audible. "Don't understand why we have to walk the whole way. Could take turns easily enough." That was one of the two men who were leading their horses. As he spoke, he glowered back at his mounted companions.

"Aye, we could take turns." The man leading the two prisoners answered. "But why should we? If you and Kanja hadn't lost out pack horses, you could have ridden along with us. I don't see why we should all have to suffer for your mistake."

"Wasn't our fault." The speaker replied. "Maybe if Pallav had tied them up properly, they wouldn't have been able to break free and run."

"And maybe if you don't shut your trap, I'll put one of these bolts between your eyes." Retorted the man leading the prisoners, drawing a crossbow from his back and leveling it at the original speaker.

Silence immediately fell. The man in front didn't even acknowledge the conversation, just glanced around them, clearly watching for any signs of life.

The man named Kanja turned his attention to the leader, calling up to him, "Vinay, you can stop looking around. With these two, there's no way they'll follow us."

Vinay glanced back at him scornfully before returning to his searching. "Doesn't mean they won't send someone after them."

"Who would they send?" Kanja scoffed. "The city guard would take days to even get on the case. And, given that we have all their gold, they can't afford to hire any mercenaries. We're in the clear."

_Oh are you now?_ Keres was now seething with anger. Bandits were relatively high on her list of people who needed a major attitude adjustment, ranked only under rogue magic-users, slavers, and politicians. She shifted her seat slightly, straightening up slightly as Vinay passed directly in front of her.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Arlentor asked, yawning widely.

"I can't." Keres hand was trembling on the hilt of Skraván. "The Dragon Riders have no authority here. I can't legally interfere with anything inside the boundaries of the country."

The werecat glanced sideways at her. "We're in the middle of nowhere. It's not as though anyone would know."

Vikonyx warning growl may have been audible only to Keres and the werecat, but she felt the vibration of it in her chest. "Chose your words more carefully werecat."

Keres made a calmly hand gestured toward her. "I would know. Our laws are absolute, I cannot disobey them. To raise my sword against any citizen of Golrazi in anything other than self-defense would break the peace we have with them. Still . . ." She shook her head in disgust, "it doesn't sit well with me to leave them like this." Her mind was racing. The rules were clear. Every apprentice had been drilled extensively on the tenuous nature of the peace between Vrenbana and Golrazi. The people of Golrazi, though they revered the dragons, were ill at ease with concept of the riders. Magic users were much rarer in their country than in Alagaësia. It wasn't that there were fewer magic-users, it was the fact that practicing magic was strictly forbidden to anyone outside of the Sadhu class. As the class system was of utmost importance to the people, anyone with magic who didn't fall into that class was expected to simply ignore it.

The leaders of the country feared that the people, if exposed too much to the Dragon Riders, would begin to revere them as gods. Dragons were sacred to the Golraz. People who could communicate with them, even ride them, would be revered even above the monarchs and city rulers. As such, the Dragon Riders had been forbidden to show themselves any further than twenty miles beyond the borders of Vrenbana. They had also been forbidden to interfere with any of the county's inner workings. Even now, this seemed incredibly stupid to Keres. To make demands of someone who was infinitely stronger than you was folly. It wasn't as if the government could punish the riders if they chose to disobey. The mountains ringing Vrenbana were impassable in the spring, fall, and winter months due to snow. Only in the winter could anyone make their way through the narrow, winding trails and, even then, getting an army through during that 4-5 month period would be a feat unto itself. It was unlikely that the Alagaësian army, well trained and supplied though they were, could manage it, let alone the pathetic rabble of noblemen that made up the Golrazi army.

It was these laws that had prompted Keres and Vikonyx to move as they did now, with Keres investigating cities and towns in the day and Vikonyx flying only at night and high above the clouds. Leaving these people seemed wrong. There had to be something that she could do.

_Vikonyx?_

"Yes"

_I take full responsibilities for my action in the next few minutes. I acknowledge that what I am about to do goes against the rules of our order and that, should my actions have unintended repercussions, I can and will be punished according to our laws. I will accept any such punishment without complaint. Understood?_

She heard her partner sigh over their mental link. The black dragon seemed to sense that there was no point in trying to argue with her. "Yes, I understand. But consider what you're about to do carefully Keres. We just became fully fledged, don't muck it up just yet."

Acknowledging the comment, Keres raised her voice so that all of the people on the road could hear her. "Slytha!" The word cracked like a command and she felt the magic drain out of her, more than she had anticipated. It took only a few seconds for her to see why. Not only had her spell affected the people, who either collapsed on the ground or slumped over the necks of their horses, but it affect the horses too. The staggered to a halt, heads drooping as they fell into a deep slumber. They stumbled forward a few steps before folding their legs beneath them and curling up on the ground. Within moments, the entire group was on the ground, snoring softly.

Arlentor emerged from the grass, sniffing the nearest horse. "Did you mean to put the horses to sleep as well?"

_No._ Keres admitted, _but it would have been a bit problematic if they had kept walking._

The crunching of grass behind her warned her that Vikonyx was approaching, so Keres rose to her feet, stretched, and strolled out into the path. Working quickly, she untied the two prisoners and muttered a few spells to heal what wounds she could see. It didn't appear that they had any serious injuries. They'd just been roughed up quite a bit. Having attended to them first, she them turned her attention the bandits, who were still laying sprawled on the ground and slumped atop their horses.

Vikonyx snorted, "So you put them to sleep so they wouldn't know what had happened." It was a statement, not a question, but Keres sensed the intent.

Speaking aloud this time, she said, "The Golraz are a notoriously religious people. With any luck, they will see this as an act of their god." As she spoke, she quickly bound the bandits' hands behind their backs. With each person she came to, she relieved them of any weapons or objects they could use to cut themselves free, quickly smashing them and scattering the remnants. Only when she had each bandit tied securely to a horse and completely disarmed, did she finally begin her inspection of their minds. She began with the man they had called Vinay. His mind yielded few clues, as did those of his companions.

It was not until she finally began to inspect the mind of the two former prisoners that she learned anything of significance. They were part of a merchant family that regularly made a cross-country trip trading goods. Though they had no knowledge of the war itself, Keres was able to piece together a rough idea of the route they took. Amongst the many memories were several towns which, as far as the two young people knew, had already been overrun in the war. One was a port city where they usually stocked up named Keta Mand. The other was a bit further inland and to the south, a river city they knew as Tandi. More importantly, however, she found the names of several other cities she could expect to come across on her way toward the west coast. Though they meant nothing to her, the names invoked several memories from the minds of either the young man or the young woman: Drisana, Chandri, Jyotish, and Banasal.

Only after a thorough inspection of their memories for any information relevant to her mission, did she finally withdraw from their minds. By that time, the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, plunging the scene into almost complete darkness. With Vikonyx's help, Keres started a fire a few feet away from where she had set the young man and woman, whom her inspection had revealed to be named Gaurav and Anahita, a brother and sister. Surveying her handiwork, she nodded to herself. If she were ever punished for her interference, it would be worth it. Now, the lives of the bandits rested in Gaurav and Anahita's hands. What they chose to do with their former captors was no concern of hers.

"And if they kill them?" Vikonyx prompted, "Will you feel guilty?"

_Why should I? I spared them, though it would have been easier to kill them. I didn't owe them even that much. _

"But you left them in the hands of someone who has the motive to kill them."

Keres shrugged. _If that should come to pass, I won't lose any sleep over it. Do I think Gaurav and Anahita will kill them? No. But if they do, that is their right. I wash my hands of this. _Keres knew that Eragon would likely have had something to say to that, but it didn't matter. Eragon's philosophies were not her own. He was, in her opinion, too softhearted. Certainly, the weak needed to be protected, but she saw no reason that those who preyed upon the weak should receive special protection. Fate would deal with them sooner or later, regardless of what she chose now.

So it was, without any reservations in her heart, that Keres withdrew from the scene. As the grasses closed around her, she barked, "Vakna!" Behind her, she heard the first stirrings as both men and horses woke and discovered the much changed situation. But she didn't bother to look back. She had made her choice. She would live with the consequences one way or another.


	44. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

"I never thought anything could be worse than searching for the Dawn Drinker flower, but this . . . this is infinitely worse." Nikkal's voice was hushed, but carried clearly over the gentle breeze that blew across the plains. Thane glanced over at her before stepping away and letting the branches he'd been peering through snap back into place. They had been searching the area where they had found the tracks for nearly 3 days without success. The most they had discovered was another set of tracks on the bank of a small stream. Evaríncel was growing increasingly irritated by the day. Dragons, Thane knew, fancied themselves to be the greatest hunters in existence. Yet even his partner had been unable to determine the location of the creature. It appeared that, in addition to its unusual appearance and size, this particular beast had inherited a trait that hadn't been seen in any other mutated animal: it possessed a muted scent.

Twice, Evaríncel had managed to pick up what he described as a faint scent of decay, these he had blundered onto by accident. It was a completely unanticipated problem. Thane had been confident his partner would be able to sniff out the beast. This inability meant that the three of them were reduced to searching by foot and wing. Still, the three days hadn't been a complete waste. The direction of the prints found on the second day confirmed what the first had made him suspect: the creature was not a plains dweller. Hunting on the plains would be easier thanks to the open areas. It meant plenty of room to stalk prey and open grassland in which to run it down. The most logical conclusion was that the creature lived up in the foothills and only came down to hunt.

They were currently inspecting the closest and lowest of the foothills before gradually making their way northwest into the larger ones. Nikkal gave another growl of frustration and, in an effort to distract her, Thane spoke up. "What's the Dawn Drinker flower?"

"It's an extremely rare flower that grows along the edges of the elf forest. They call it Dawn Drinker because it blooms only at sunrise and with comparable colors." She explained. "It's very useful in healing teas as it brings down high fevers and the smell can sometimes awaken people who have fallen unconscious. That's why I was looking for it. The Magician's Guild wanted to study its properties in greater detail, so they sent three of us apprentices to the forest under the instruction of a senior magician to find it."

Thane frowned at her words. The elves were notoriously suspicious of the Magician's Guild. They remembered, all too well, the human magic-users who had opposed them during the great Rider War. Humans, they believed, were more easily corrupted than the other races. So short were their lives that they were prone to doing anything they could to better them in the time they were given. This meant they could be easily swayed by means of achieving money, love, or power. Magic users, due to their abilities, were believed to be particularly susceptible. Thane couldn't imagine that the elves had been pleased to see so many young magicians show up on what was essentially their doorstep. "I can't imagine the search was easy."

Nikkal gave a mirthless laugh. "It was awful, for various reasons. The first is that, as I mentioned, the flower is exceedingly rare. We suspect that they bloom abundantly within the forest, where the elves' magic is strongest. However, they are almost never seen on the outskirts of the forest where we had to search. That was the second problem: the elf barrier. In an unfortunate incident nearly 100 years ago, one of our number tried to break into the forest. His home village was being ravaged by a plague and he believed that elf-medicine could cure them." She shook her head. "He arrived unannounced and the barrier refused him entry. Angered, he tried to smash through it, demanding to speak with one of the elf leaders. When his request went unanswered, he responded by setting fire to the forest next to the barrier. He fancied himself a strong fire mage, but the flames soon got out of control and he perished in a fire of his own making. Four acres of forest were consumed by the blaze before the elves arrived to put it out."

Evaríncel groaned and even Thane couldn't keep a sigh from slipping through his lips. Elves loved their forest homes almost more than life itself. They were intimately connected to every living being within their domain, especially the trees. For the elves, burning a section of Du Weldenvarden would have been comparable to a slaughter.

"Since then," Nikkal continued, "the elves have refused to even treat with us. Going near their domain is a strict taboo within our order. They outnumber us human magic users and could easily destroy us if given the provocation."

Thane opened his mouth to refute her claim, but then thought better of it. Of course he knew that the elves wouldn't murder human magic-users out of cold blood, but given the right situation, a fight would be inevitable. The elves had risen against Galbatorix when they perceived his threat. To this day, humans told whispered tales of how the elf army had swept across the land like a flood, beautiful and terrible, killing all who opposed them. If pushed too far, it was not inconceivable that the elves could wage war on the Magician's Guild, especially if the rumors about the King's slipping control over the school go magic users were true. More importantly, if this notion had kept the Magician's Guild from doing anything that might even irritate the elves, then it was a notion that he could get behind.

A thought struck him suddenly and he asked, "And the man's village?"

"Hm?"

"The village that was struck by the plague? The man's birthplace? What happened to it?"

"The same things that happens to all towns when a plague hits. It was quarantined until the disease had run its course. About 300 people died, but it was a small price to pay. The plague didn't spread anywhere and those who survived began to rebuild the town. It was Moranon, which you likely passed on your travels. As you can see, it's thriving now."

Thane sighed. The worst part of the story, which Nikkal had no way of knowing, was that all of the magician's efforts had probably been in vain. The elves had figured out the secrets of some illnesses, how they were caught, how they spread, and how to treat them, but plagues remained an enigma, even to the most talented healers. They usually came on suddenly and were gone before any extensive research could be done. Also, the elf or human healer had to be willing to risk catching the sickness themselves and being unable to cure it. It was unlikely that the elves could have done anything to help the town anyways. All the tension between the two groups of magic users had been for nothing.

_I wonder if the situation between us and the Magician's Guild is the same. _

"Unlikely." The prompt assertion startled Thane and he glanced over at his partner before continuing to search the surrounding grasses.

_What makes you say that?_

"The misunderstanding between the Magician's Guild and the elves is born of misinformation. They take the elves silence as aloofness and hatred. That might be true for individual elves, but as a race, they are generally reserved, if not withdrawn. The Magician's Guild chose reasons that supported their own preconceptions, as opposed to actually discovering the source of the elves behavior. The Dragon Riders are not so naive. Eragon has done his best to understand the Magician's Guild, including maintaining contact with a few, trusted magicians. He has confirmation of what they are."

_Eragon is not infallible. Nikkal seems alright. _Thane was growing more annoyed by the moment. In the past few days, he had come to regard the female magic-user highly. Her companionship was a welcome distraction on such a demanding mission.

"Eragon had lived far longer than either of us. You cannot ignore that there is wisdom in most everything he has done thus far. Why should this matter be any different? As for the girl, I will admit that she is talented and not unpleasant to be around, but do not read too far into it. No organization can be judged on the merits of one member."

Thane frowned to hear his own words thrown back at him in such a way. When he had used that argument, he had been discussing Galbatorix with Master Maira. Still, he supposed the statement worked both ways. Just as a single bad member didn't represent the whole organization, neither did a single good member. His partner was presenting a logical argument. The young rider took a deep breath, forcing himself to let go of his anger. _Perhaps you are right._

The white dragon shook himself. "I think this search is making us all irritable. It's a good thing that . . ." He was cut off by Nikkal, who had moved to Thane's side while he was distracted.

"I don't know about you but I need to freshen up."

Thane blinked, startled by the sudden introduction. "Excuse me?"

"Freshen up?" At the look on his face, she cocked her head to one side. "Spruce myself up? Primp? No?" When he continued to look puzzled, she slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "I need to go bathe, Thane. Do Dragon Riders not do that?"

Heat suffused Thane's cheeks as he gaped at her for a moment.

"Some less than others." Evaríncel commented innocently.

_I'm starting to regret the fact that you can talk. _Thane flashed an annoyed look at the white dragon before spluttering. "We do! I mean . . . yes, we shower like everyone else. We've just been trained to wait. Bathing is a vulnerability. The water dampens sound, and removing clothing means that you have no weapons and armor on you. Also, people tend to space out while they bathe, making them easy targets."

"That's right. Ramble, I'm sure she won't think that's strange." Evaríncel was enjoying himself far too much for Thane's liking.

Ignoring him, the young dragon rider continued. "According to our maps, there should be a suitable stream a couple hundred yards north. You can bathe, but Evaríncel and I will have to keep watch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, will you be watching?"

Thane's mouth had already opened to respond before he fully registered her words. He gaped for a moment, unable to properly formulate a response as the blush in his cheeks worked its way upward, intensifying until his ears burned. It wasn't until he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching that he realized that she, too, was teasing him. He turned his back on them both, walking away with as much dignity as he could muster.

Evaríncel's sharp nose picked out the scent of running water very quickly and, within minutes, they were standing on the banks of a waist-deep stream. It cut through the grassland in a serpentine pattern, flowing out of a spring somewhere deep within the Spine. After several moments of awkward negotiations, it was decided that Evaríncel would standing between Thane and Nikkal, keeping watch on both banks while the woman bathed. Thane was certain that if Nikkal knew exactly how intelligent dragons were, she wouldn't even have allowed this small concession so, for once, he was glad that he had neglected to tell her.

After their recent disagreement, he and Evaríncel had lapsed into a comfortable silence. That was the best part about his partner. They got angry at each other, just like all families did. But, because they shared a mind, it was much easier to understand each other's feelings. Moreover, he trusted that Evaríncel wouldn't be spiteful or selfish. It meant that problems between them were pretty easily solved. It also meant that apologies didn't necessarily have to be voiced. They were usually just understood. One or the other acknowledged that they were in the wrong, and that was the end of it.

"You like the magician girl, don't you?"

The question caught him off guard. _What? Well, I mean yeah. She's pretty cool. _

"No, I mean that you are attracted to her."

Thane's cheeks blushed again, but this time he allowed himself to look at the situation, forcing himself to confront how he felt. _I suppose I am. She's pretty. And she seems to have a good personality. But, I barely know her. I guess this is what I'd call a crush. _

Evaríncel was silent for a moment, then said, "Be careful where you emotions pull you. It could be that this is just what the Magician's Guild intended."

That had never occurred to Thane, who felt a twinge of unease bloom in his chest. _Do you think so?_

"I'm not sure." The white dragon admitted. "But I will think that it may become part of the plan if it isn't already. You wouldn't be the first man in history to be taken in by a pretty face." He glanced over toward where Nikkal stood in the water. "Still, I don't think that she's trying to draw you in, not right now anyways. Her actions seem honest enough."

_But things are never as they appear. _Thane grinned. It was a favorite saying of Halastair.

Evaríncel's amusement radiated over their link. "We're getting paranoid, Thane."

_And we aren't even old yet. _

A shudder ran down his spine. The smile died on Thane's face. _Do you feel that?_ Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He felt a prickling on the back of his neck and, deep in some corner of his mind, alarm bells were ringing.

Evaríncel's entire body had tensed at almost the same instant. "Yes. Danger is near."

Thane wasn't sure whether it was their Dragon Rider training, or some innate, sixth sense, but he and his partner had always been exceptionally adept at sensing danger. Even amongst the Riders, their amount ability had been considered unusual. It was this ability that served them well now. Trying to keep his voice as level as possible, Thane called, "Nikkal?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to get out now."

He heard a faint edge of irritation in her voice as she responded, "I'm almost done. Give me a moment."

"No Nikkal." He was struggling to keep a note of worry from entering his voice. "You need to get out now. Like, right now."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

There was silence for a few moments before Evaríncel growled, "She needs to get a move on."

"Nikkal please hurry." The sense of danger hadn't gone away, so Thane was certain that the threat hadn't gone away either. That was the one downfall of their gift. They could sense the danger, but not where it was or what it was. The threat could have been something as simple as an enemy magic-user. But Thane wasn't willing to take any chances, not here. Besides, he had never felt the sensation so strongly before. The feeling in the back of his mind bordered on sheer panic. It made his pulse quicken and he felt the trembling of his extremities as adrenaline flooded his system.

A moment later, Nikkal appeared striding quickly around the white dragon's bulk. Her hair was still dripping water and she held a bundle of dirty clothes in her hand. At first, she looked irritated, but when she saw the look on his face, her expression shifted to concern. "What is it?"

Thane shook his head, turning his back to her and his partner so that he could scan the underbrush. "Something's wrong. Stay close to Evaríncel." His hand had already dropped to the hilt of his sword. To his partner, he asked, _What should we do?_

"I'm not sure. I don't like this, Thane. Earlier, I was going to tell you. Maybe we won't be able to find the beast by searching for it. But if we leave enough of a trail, it will most certainly find us."

_Alright, I'm gonna take a few steps right. Maybe the movement will draw whatever it is out of hiding. _

Evaríncel's growl told him that his partner disapproved of this plan. "Just wait. Whatever it is will either attack or leave."

_But if it's the creature, this could be our best chance to draw it out. That's why we're here! _After a few more seconds, he felt a grudging acceptance through their mental link. _Watch my back okay?_

"Always"

Though he had sounded completely confident in his plan, it still took all of Thane's willpower to leave the relative safety of his partner's side. His fingers were trembling and he had to force his legs to move. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Each movement took him farther from safety and further into what he felt sure was a kill zone. The entire world held its breath. Even the wind had died down. CRUNCH! His left foot came down on a section of dried grasses.

"THANE!" Evaríncel's warning roar broke the silence like a thunderclap.

The young man's head turned slightly, swiveling to see what it was that had caused his partner so much distress. Time slowed as, out of the corner of his eye he made out a dark shape hurtling through the air toward him. His body had moved even before he fully registered what had happened, lunging forward even as he turned to see what had so upset his partner. But it wasn't enough. The creature was nearing him with every second. In a heartbeat he took in the outstretched claws, gaping maw, and furious, fevered eyes. Every one of those things was now within a foot of his body. His mind went blank. He couldn't move out of the way. It was over.

Then something whooshed over his head, brushing his hair in passing. A flash of white and then the dark figure was gone with a crack. Thane hit the ground, rolling back to his feet and drawing Kveykva. It took a moment for him to grasp what had happened. Evaríncel's tail had struck the beast like a whip, throwing it backward as easily as Thane might swat a fly. Now his partner was standing over him, head close to the ground and his teeth bared in a snarl of fury.

Thane stared at the beast that stood in front of them. It stood on all fours, like a wolf, but the limbs were long, as if they had been stretched to twice their usual length. The shoulders were built up, with a mass of flexing muscles that made the body strangely misshapen. The skin was a mottled gray color and most of it was exposed to the open air with the exception of a few patches of wiry black fur. There was a stripe of fur on each of the forearms and a thick mane around the neck and on the shoulders. Another streak stretched down the back, directly over the spine. But it was the head that drew Thane's attention. It looked almost too big for the body, and the black fury covered the forehead before flowing down the back of the skull to meet the mane. And it was covered in scars. Bubble-like growths of black skin speckled the face and muzzle. In some places, Thane could still see the broken off arrows that were sunk deep into the skin. The area immediately surrounding the glowing, mustard-yellow eyes was pockmarked with scars.

He had a few moments to register these things before the creature attacked again. Evaríncel drew his head back, opening his mouth wider and hissing. This time it was Thane who stepped forward against the attack. In comparison to the first, breathtaking rush, this second strike was manageable. As the claws of the right paw skated off Kveykva's blade, he ducked to one side, drawing his sword across his chest in a horizontal swipe. The body passed inches over him. When he next turned to face the beast, Kveykva dripped blood onto the torn earth.

The beast screamed, shaking its head angrily. The back, left leg was pouring blood onto the ground from a deep gash that looked to have nearly severed the muscle. It made to come toward them again before stumbling on its injured limb. The head snapped around to survey the wound momentarily before it turned tail and fled into the brush. There was a sound of footsteps and Thane put out a hand just in time to stop Nikkal from sprinting after it.

She looked incredulously at him. "We just found it! Don't let it get away!"

Thane shook his head, reaching down to grab a handful of dried grass and wiping his sword clean. "There's no need to chase him. We can find him at our leisure now."

"What do you mean?" Now she sounded more puzzled than angry.

Sheathing his blade, Thane pointed to the ground. She followed his gaze and he saw her eyes widen as they noted what he had already recognized. Aside from the pool of blood that saturated the ground where the beast had been standing, there was a trail of blood spatters leading off in the direction it had vanished.

Evaríncel's rumble of satisfaction was clearly audible. "Blood doesn't lie. Blood I can track."

Thane grinned up at him before turning his attention back to Nikkal. With a bow, he gestured toward the trail. "Well, shall we turn the tables?"


	45. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

"Keres, someone is coming."

The white-haired girl looked up from the fire that she had been stoking. After gazing into the flickering flames, the darkness looked almost impenetrable. They had taken refuge in a small, but thick, copse of trees nearly twenty miles away from the nearest town. The idea had been that people rarely traveled the roads after dark and that the chances of anyone coming across them was very slim. Immediately, Keres waved her hand over the fire, muttering a spell. The flames died out instantly and the embers quickly smoldered and died, leaving the campfire looking as if it had been put out hours ago.

As always, she kept Skraván within arm's reach. Within moments, she was on her feet, the black blade unsheathed and held before her. She didn't need to ask Vikonyx where. Already she could hear the steady tread of footsteps. Whoever was coming was making no attempt to hide their movements. Also, in spite of the fact that she and Vikonyx had landed well off the beaten path, the newcomer was headed directly toward them.

_You don't think it knows we're here, do you? The fire was too small to be seen through the trees. And you don't show up in the dark like most dragons._ Keres cursed beneath her breath. An hour later and they would have been leaving. As it was, she had removed all of the bags from Vikonyx back as well as the saddle. Arlentor was off hunting and Keres had been prepping a small plains deer to cook. There was no way to hide all of the evidence of their camp, even if they took off immediately. And even if they could hide their tracks, they couldn't leave now. Arlentor had gone off to hunt only a half-hour ago and they weren't expecting him back for quite some time. They couldn't just leave him here.

Vikonyx shifted slightly, her claws anxiously kneading the dirt. "I don't know. You should get into the trees and I will try to scare them off. Better they think that a wild dragon landed here than to know that a Dragon Rider is lurking about."

_That's a terrible plan!_

"Only because you disagree with it." Vikonyx flicked her tail. "There's no time to argue. Trust me."

Keres growled in frustration, but quickly retreated into the trees. Vikonyx now stood in the center of the clearing. Her wings were flared slightly, a natural response that dragons used to make themselves look bigger. Even at a distance, Keres could hear the fierce growling even from this distance. Silently, she mouthed a quick spell, pointing toward the pile of saddlebags as she did so. Their outline wavered and, a heartbeat later, they resembled a clump of thick bushes. It was not a particularly complex or powerful spell, but it would be enough to fool most people for as long as it would take them to flee from Vikonyx.

Most people. "Oy, you bare careful where you're putting those giant feet! You'll crush my prize!" The voice that called out was scolding.

Keres blinked. _What?_

Vikonyx head pulled back in surprise. "What?"

A moment later, a woman emerged from the treeline. She had long, straight blond hair, and midnight blue eyes. A black cloak was fastened around her neck and she wore a simple, blue dress that matched her eyes. A pouch hung at her waist and, opposite it, Keres could see the hilt of a dagger. The woman stared up at Vikonyx without a trace of fear. The black dragon blinked twice, looking about as confused as Keres had ever seen a dragon look. Then her lips pulled back to reveal a row of white fangs and she began to lower her head toward the woman.

The woman waved a hand, "Oh, no need to snarl now. You're clearly not a wild dragon. I'd be burnt to a crisp if you were. Also, you're black, and as far as I know there's been only one black dragon since Shruikan. Which means you must be Vikonyx, partner to Keres of the White-Eyes."

"Well, you certainly have us at a disadvantage." Keres emerged from her hiding spot, hoping that her sudden appearance might unnerve this strange newcomer.

It did not. "Quite the opposite." She said brightly, "You have a dragon and I do not."

Keres blinked. It took a moment for her to understand the newcomer's meaning. Then she chuckled, "I suppose that's true. What I meant was that you clearly know our names, but we don't know yours."

By now the woman had turned her back on both Keres and Vikonyx and was rooting around in the grass. "Well, that may have been what you meant, but it certainly wasn't what you said." She fell silent, continuing to search the ground.

Keres stared, mouth slightly open.

Vikonyx's tail flicked. "She's a strange one."

_A strange one who knows exactly who we are. Who would know that? I can maybe understand her knowing about me, but you? And she's not the least bit concerned about our presence. _

Cocking her head to one side, Keres asked, "Ma'am, not to be rude, but who are you?"

"That's quite a personal question." The woman glanced up momentarily before returning to her search. "So personal, in fact, that I don't think I will answer it."

A bubble of annoyance rose in her chest, but Keres forced it down. "Well, what is your name?"

The question earned her a smile. "Now that is a much more sensible question, but the subject of names also curious. One can have many names. For example, you can be White-Eyes, Witchborn, Blood Born, or simply Keres. But the question is which one you put the most stock into? I'm going to assume the latter, so I will give you my equivalent. You may call me Gelya." She gave a cry of delight and straightened up, holding dark-leafed plant in her hand. "And you may call this Datura. Lovely plant, but extremely poisonous."

Keres raised an eyebrow, "Well, if it's poisonous, why do you need it?"

"You know, it's rude to ask questions to which you already know the answer." In response to Keres' questioning look, she rolled her eyes, carefully tucking the plant into a satchel at her waist. "If I already know who you are, then you should know that I know about your skill with herbs."

"So I should assume that you know everything about me?"

"Not at all."

Keres narrowed her eyes. _What should we do?_

"I'm not sure." Vikonyx admitted. "She doesn't appear to mean us any harm. We need to figure out who she is and how she knows us. But how?"

A faint smile curved Keres' lips. _Well, I can think of one way. _To the woman, she said, "Gelya, would you like to join us for dinner? I was just setting up when you arrived."

Gelya's smile widened, "Why, what a lovely invitation. I think I shall."

Keres stepped back over to the fire and muttered a quick spell over it, causing the flames to spring back to life. It seemed unnecessary to hide her magic from Gelya. Given what the woman had said, it was likely that she already knew. She had, quite stupidly, left the two speared rabbits sitting upright in the ground near the edge of the fire. After checking to make sure that they would finish cook properly, she settled herself down on the grass. Across from her, Gelya did the same.

Deciding that she should probably begin the conversation, Keres asked, "So did you come all the way out here for some Datura?"

Gelya shook her head, "Not specifically, no. I saw the trees and figured that there might be some worthwhile herbs to be found beneath them. I'm more of an opportunist. I don't really need the herbs, but I can always use extra."

"You run an apothecary then?"

"No. I'm more of a traveling doctor. I find the cities here so stifling. Everything is so close together and there's so many people that I can't bear to stay in one city for too long. Instead, I prefer to visit the farms and small outlier villages. Did you know, most of the doctors here consider themselves too good to treat the common people? They reserve their time for the upper classes and some of the richer people hire personal physicians." Gelya's lip curled in disgust. "They leave the poor to die just because many can't pay with coin. So I go out and treat them."

"How do they pay you?"

Gelya smiled slyly, "With food mostly. Produce and dried meats. And . . . with information."

Keres returned the grin. "Well, some would say that you are being paid with in a currency more valuable than money."

"Only the wise ones. Most people believe that I am giving my services away. They're so narrow minded. But you cannot fault these people. They haven't the freedom of knowledge that others do. Most of them have no desire to learn things outside of their caste."

"Most?"

"Most," She admitted, "but not all. I've met several members of the younger generation who are actively attempting to learn everything they can. Truthfully, I have no idea how Golrazi managed to quash the majority of human curiosity. Humans are always sticking their noses where they don't belong in search of knowledge. What made that noise at night? Is there anything in that big hole? If I mix these two ingredients, what will happen? And while such questions have led to monumental leaps in our collective knowledge, they've also produced their fair share of injuries and fatalities."

The statement was so casual that Keres couldn't help but chuckle. "My mentors frequently expressed their astonishment that my curiosity had not killed me yet." She reached out with magic and lifted both of the spits off the fire. After muttering a second spell to cool the food, she passed one of them to Gelya, who took it gratefully. As they both dug into their meal, Keres looked over at her. "You say you deal in information, so I have a proposition for you. How about we trade? You have knowledge that I do not and I think that I have knowledge that you don't. I could be very interesting for both of us."

Gelya's eyes brightened. "Now, that is an interesting offer. But I'm afraid I must set a limit on this. How about we play a game? We will each ask the other four questions. The other must answer truthfully. Of course, we can continue eating as while the other speaks. Are we agreed?"

"Be careful." Vikonyx growled. "This reeks of a trap."

_Or it could be the opposite. This could be a gold-mine. And notice, she said we had to answer truthfully, but she said nothing about answering to the best of our knowledge or divulging everything we know. _

"That is a very elven way of thinking." Vikonyx observed.

_Yes. And that's what makes me think we can probably trust her. She seems . . . no she feels Elvish. _

"Are you quite done talking to your dragon?" Gelya said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Keres raised an eyebrow. "I agree to your terms. And as a show of goodwill, I will invite you to go first."

Gelya nodded and studied the young woman for a second. "Alright. How do you feel about your mother?"

"My mother?"

"Yes"

Keres drew in a deep breath, her brow furrowing as she tried to compose an answer without revealing too much of herself. "I disagree with her methods. She hurt innocent people and trampled those weaker than her to achieve her goals. At times, I am ashamed to be her daughter. But I also don't feel that I can fully pass judgement unless I meet her in person. It is an ignorant individual who bases their feelings on the opinions and observations of others."

The blue-eyed woman nodded a few times. "I see. Now it's your turn."

"How do you know who so much about Vikonyx and myself?"

Gelya waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Well, that's simple. I once joined a group of merchants who traveled to Vrenbana to barter and trade. During my time there, there was plenty of talk about the witchborn daughter of the sorceress Iezabel. As I knew of your mother's reputation, I could easily deduce your skill with herbs. I'm told that she was nearly unmatched in that field, save by the elves. Also, the fact that your dragon was black was also spoken of with great interest. In short, your existence was no great secret and I prefer to listen more than I speak."

Keres' eyes narrowed. If Gelya had been into Vrenbana, then her knowledge made slightly more sense. Still, the merchants that often came to Vrenbana were usually terrified of the dragons. Even the hardened sailors shifted and grumbled uneasily when the dragons were nearby. But Gelya had approached Vikonyx without the slightest hesitation. Even now, with the dragon so close, the woman was sitting comfortably, apparently enjoy herself. However, as the woman didn't appear willing to divulge any other information, Keres let the matter rest.

"Second question: What do you think of Eragon's leadership?"

Vikonyx snorted, flicking her tail. "Not exactly pulling any punches, is she?"

Keres let out a long breath, stalling for time as she carefully edited the initial thoughts that had jumped into her mind. "I think that Eragon is wise. He leads by example, doing what he would ask each of us to do, which is good. He also is quite adept at taking the entire corps into account when he makes a decision. He is fair and resolved; a good leader."

"But?" Gelya prompted. In response to Keres' frown, she continued, "Opinions include both positive and negative."

"But" Keres admitted slowly, "I think that he sometimes allows his heart to rule his head. He shies away from what is necessary if he feels it is morally wrong. I think that could cause us trouble one day if someone isn't around to do what must be done."

"That someone being you?"

Keres raised an eyebrow, "Is that question number 3?"

Gelya raised her hands in submission, "Fine, fine."

"What is your relationship with the elves?"

Gelya smiled, "You are much more astute than I had anticipated. If you must know I spent some time in Du Weldenvarden. The studies conducted by the elves are years ahead of what any human is doing and I like to stay on the cutting edge. Also, the elf studies tend to be more ethical. My relationship with them is cordial and I am welcome in their cities as I wish."

Vikonyx leaned down to nudge Keres' shoulder. "So your guess was not far off. If the elves trust her, then there is no reason that we should not. However, it is rare for a human to be welcome amongst them, if she is a human at all."

"My turn again." Gelya trilled. She paused for a moment before asking, "Do you see yourself as a human?"

Keres laughed, "That's easy. No. I look like a human, but so can a shade, and it is clearly not human. Elves can also make themselves appear human without actually being so. I am something else, but what that something is, I'm not sure."

Gelya nodded and gestured for Keres to ask the next question.

_Only two left. With my last question, I want to ask something that could help us with our mission, but that leaves one extra question. Any suggestions?_

"The story she gave about treating civilians seems trivial. One does not travel to another country for something like that. I would like to know what she is really doing here."

Keres glanced at her partner, then asked, "Treating the sick peasants might be what you are doing now, but it is not the reason you came to Golrazi. What brought you to this country?"

Once again, Keres thought she saw a flash of approval in the older woman's eyes. "I am a collector of sorts. I collect new experiences. The more experience you have, the better your chances of going through this world without meeting too many nasty surprises. Simply put, I had not been in Golrazi for quite some time and wanted to come back and check out the state of things."

When it became clear that was all she was going to say, Keres chuckled to herself. _Well, that answer left me with more questions than anything else. _

"She is clever." Vikonyx agreed, "But not unwilling to give answers. If she was, she would never have agreed to this game."

But Gelya was already speaking. "Last question then. What do you want most in life?"

The question caught Keres off guard. It wasn't something that she had considered recently. If she had been asked a few months ago, her answer would have been "To be a Dragon Rider in full." But that had been accomplished. Certainly she wanted to complete this mission, but she didn't think that was what the woman was asking of her. Vikonyx was silent, apparently also waiting for the answer. Finally, Keres said, "I want . . . to be a great Dragon Rider, like Eragon and Vrael and Oromis. I want to be the type of rider that people remember, that people speak of with reverence and awe. You know, the kind that end up being legends. I want to accomplish things so great that, if asked who they want to emulate, future riders will say Keres."

This time, Gelya did not smile. Instead, her brow furrowed slightly, "That is . . . a lofty goal."

"It's mine." Keres shrugged. Then, eager to draw attention away from her answer, she leaned forward. "And now for my last question. What do you know about the Bogurk invasion?"

"Now, that is an interesting question." Gelya said, plucking a blade of grass from the ground and casually shredding it. "Let's see, I know that the Bogurk are formidable warriors, thought as far as anyone knows, they don't use magic. I know that they conquered all 3 of Golrazi's major port cities in under 4 months. I know that they plan on going as far inland as their river boats will let them, and then they plan to halt their advance. However, there is a decent chance that they will try to extend their reach up and down the coast. Also," Her eyes glinted, "I happen to know that King Rickhard Shiverspear has taken up residence in the town of Elurur, which he has renamed Kopervund."

Keres mouth fell open. There was absolutely no way that this woman could have known why she was here. Very few of the Riders knew where she had been sent and why she had been sent there. Eragon had only told her a few nights before her departure and she knew he wouldn't just let that sort of information become common knowledge.

Gelya wolfed down the last bit of her rabbit and stuck the spit back into the ground before climbing to her feet. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it? I thank you for the meal, but I must be going, and I suspect that you will be leaving soon as well." She brushed herself off, checked her satchel and then waved cheerily. "Good night to you Keres and Vikonyx. Safe travels." Then she was off, walking back toward the trees.

Keres watched her for a moment before returning her gaze to the flames. Something in the back of her mind was screaming at her, struggling to make itself heard. She was missing something here; something that should have been obvious. Then, something clicked. Keres watched the fire, a slow smile creeping over her face. As the footsteps retreated, she called. "Tell Solembum I'm sorry he couldn't make it. I would have liked to meet him."

The footsteps halted. For a moment, there was silence, then, in a voice that she recognized, the woman said, "So, it's true then. You are much cleverer than your master was at your age." Keres turned and, this time, the woman had curly brown hair and green eyes. Gelya raised an eyebrow, "How did you know?"

Keres looked back over her shoulder, "Eragon found you fascinating. His memories were quite vivid and very detailed. You can change your voice and your appearance, but you cannot change your personality Uluthrek."

The woman chuckled, turning her back on Keres. "You intrigue me child. I hope, when next we meet, you will allow me to cast the bones for you. It should prove an interesting read."

Keres dipped her head in assent. "As you wish. It was a pleasure to finally meet you Ilumëo-Taka."

For the last time, the woman paused, just before the tree line. "Is that what I'm being called now?"

Keres shrugged. "It is what Eragon called you. I agree with him. Truth-Giver . . . It is a good name."

A high, clear laugh split the night as Gelya moved forward into the trees. "You might not think so when the truth is yours."

* * *

Thanks to everyone for all the comments! I really appreciate the feedback. Please continue to read and respond.


	46. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

The world always seemed to shrink when Thane was hunting. Even as a child, when his father had taken him and his brother out into the mountains, the world had slowly dissolved until there was only him and the track. Being connected to Evaríncel had only heightened the feeling. It was bliss. Their minds merged until it was Thane's nose that detected the faint scent of their quarry. It was Evaríncel's hand that reached out to examine a crushed twig or bend stalk. Thane's clawed feet tore the ground as Evaríncel's booted ones glided lightly over the grass. The only difference this time was the sensation of Nikkal sitting in the saddle atop their back. Though she had claimed to be used to riding horses, she was swaying awkwardly on Evaríncel's back, causing the straps to tug and pull against his iron-hard scales. Vaguely, Thane was glad that they had strapped her in. It was unlikely that she could have kept up with them and it would have been quite a shame if she had fallen out of the saddle.

They had been tracking the creature for nearly 3 hours. That, in itself, was surprising as the creature had only received a 15 minute head start at best. As soon as he had double-checked all the straps on their bags and gotten Nikkal secured in the saddle, they had gone in search of the trail. It hadn't been too difficult to find, but the blood spatters had given them pause. The bright crimson of fresh-spilled blood was overlaid by a strange, oily sheen. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen. Even the scent, which Evaríncel could easily find now, had a slightly noxious tinge. The smell was something akin to rot.

Now they dashed along the trail, eyes peeled for the tell-tale splatters that had led them to this point. They were deep into the mountains, where the blood was painted on bushes and low-hanging tree limbs rather than on the ground. The steady, uphill grind cause his legs to burn, but his breath remained strong. Maira and Halastair had demanded he be stay in almost superhuman good shape. It would take many, many years before his bond with Evaríncel advanced his skills to match those of the elves, so, for now, Thane had to ensure that he was stronger and more physically fit than his enemies. Only those years of intense training allowed him to move at such a speed. And his skills would ensure that he had enough left when he finally caught up to his quarry.

Already, he and Evaríncel were formulating battle plans. The real problem was Nikkal. In spite of the fact that he trusted her, he knew that she, like him, would be reporting back to her superiors. Part of the reason the Dragon Riders avoided contact with other magic users was because Riders received much more extensive training in the magical arts. Eragon and the other elders and mentors knew words that had long since been lost to the humans, and some which even the dwarves had ceased to remember. Thane had taken a solemn vow to protect that knowledge from all outsiders. It was not a vow he regretted. He saw the need to keep some knowledge hidden for the good of the world. But that vow meant that, because of Nikkal's presence, he could not use his full arsenal of skills against this formidable opponent. Thane would have to restrict himself to simple spells. Evaríncel had already decided to remain on the sidelines of this fight unless he was absolutely needed. Not only would his involvement put Nikkal in the line of fire, but if he had to resort to breathing flame, there would be no salvaging the body.

_Feels like the world conspired against us to make this fight as difficult as possible. _

"That may be true," Evaríncel admitted, "but we should relish this challenge. Few Riders ever get the chance to utilize their skills in such a direct way."

_Don't get me wrong, I'm not upset the fight is going to be difficult. I'm just irritated to be playing with so many handicaps. _

Evaríncel chuckled, "But you do have an advantage; one that you can use for the first time. I would have thought you'd be excited."

Thane smiled, his fingers flexing on Kveykva's hilt. _Excited? I'm thrilled. I'm ecstatic. I'm just sad I have to hold back. _

This would be his first real fight as a Dragon Rider. Apprentices were forbidden from harming any living creature except in self-defense and, even then, lethal force could only be used when one's life was in danger. It was ironic really. Riders spent years honing their skills with a sword, but they were only allowed to use it in duels where the blade was blocked. Even when they got to Alagaësia, they odds that they would actually have to defend themselves with a sword were miniscule. The occasional bandit might have a go and most slavers preferred to go down fighting rather than be captured and put to death in the capital. But otherwise there was really no opportunity to actually fight. A simple spell or even sentence in the Ancient Language would cause most predators to back off. But that wouldn't work on this creature. This time, he would have to fight.

The trail was steadily becoming fresher, a sure sign that they were gaining on the monster. The question was, was it slowing down because it was injured or because it was approaching its destination? Both were equally problematic. An injured animal might not be at full strength, but it would feel backed into a corner and was likely to come out fighting harder than ever. On the other hand, if they were indeed approaching the creature's den, then it would have home field advantage in this fight. And Thane really had no idea what they would find. Where would a creature like this live? A cave? A clearing? A den? Regardless of the terrain, he would have to find some way to turn the fight in his favor.

Taking a deep breath, Thane opened up his mind. Instantly, his surroundings were overlaid by a glittering blanket of lights. The slow energy of the plants pulsed dimly in the background, outshone by the bright flickers of animals darting out of his way. He extended his range forward, searching for the mind of the creature with tendrils of thought. It took a minute before he could make out the distorted thoughts of his prey. Its mind flared brightly, like a sun amidst a sea of stars. Thane couldn't make out its surroundings, but he could tell that it had halted.

_It stopped. 300 yards and closing. _

"Be careful." Evaríncel warned. "I would prefer to not damage the specimen too much, but it the choice is between saving you and bringing back good samples, I will chose the former."

_Well I'd certainly hope so._

"You should let her know what's about to happen. I don't want her doing anything foolish, like trying to get out of the saddle."

Thane nodded, withdrawing his mind from the world around him, Thane turned his head to look at the woman who was clinging to Evaríncel's back. Her hair was windblow and her cheeks were flushed, but she was looking determined. As the white dragon slowed to a walk, Thane moved to his shoulder and put a hand on her leg.

In response to her questioning look, he smiled, "We're almost there. It's holed up somewhere in those trees just ahead."

She nodded and reached down toward the straps on her legs. He caught her wrist mid-motion. "Hold on. You're gonna stay on Evaríncel for this one." She began to protest, but he shook his head. "These things are usually immune to magic, so I'm going to have to fight it hand to hand."

She raised an eyebrow. "After it nearly took your head off? You're going after it with a sword?"

"I could go bare-handed if you'd prefer."

"Don't be cute. It could kill you."

"I will most certainly try." He patted his sheathed sword, "But don't forget, Dragon Riders teach combat skills as well. These aren't just for show."

Concern was clear in her face as she sighed, "Just be careful, will you?"

He bowed dramatically, "As you wish ma'am." To Evaríncel he said, _If I fail, get her back to Sunvarda as fast as you can. _

The dragon snorted. "If you fail, I will make you such a pyre that the gods themselves will be impressed. However, I would prefer you came out of this alive."

Thane reached up to touch the armored nose that lowered to meet him. _I love you too brother._ The white head withdrew and a puff of black smoke curled from Evaríncel's nostrils. Thane's fingers closed around Kveykva's hilt and he drew the sword with a hiss. _Now, let us finish this hunt. _

He turned to face the trees and once again opened his mind. The beast hadn't moved. But the wind had shifted and it was now aware that he was there. As if to answer his thoughts, a challenging howl emanated from the trees. _Well, at least we know exactly where it is._ For now, he kept his sword pointed down and away from his body. He strode calmly toward the trees, focusing on his breathing and the motions of his body. This was what he had been trained for. There would be no magic here, no advantage. He would go into this will his just his sword and his skills. It was time to see how good he really was.

The shadows of the trees fell over him and he felt the coolness on his skin, but his attention was riveted on the monster that was now a mere 150 yards in front of him. With an injured leg, it wouldn't be able to bring its tremendous speed to bear as it had in their first bout. Since its mobility had been hindered, it would be in his best interest to keep out of reach and attack only when there was an opening. Stabs would prevail over slashes in this fight. He increased his pace slightly, breaking into a slow jog. If he could get a good strike in before the creature had a chance to fully prepare, he might be able to end this battle early.

75 yards. Though the trees ahead, he could see a wide swath of sunlight, indicating a clearing. He would have only seconds to take in the terrain if he went ahead with this quick strike. He glided over the ground, sucking in great breaths of air as he readied himself for the fight. 35 yards. He broke through the treeline and found himself sprinting across open grassland. This was perfect. The terrain was perfect for him. Ahead, the creature had its back to him. It was hunched over, licking the wound on its leg.

At 15 yards, disaster struck. What had appeared to be solid ground shifted beneath his foot. He staggered slightly, and on his next step, the ground shifted again. He risked a glance downward. What he had taken for grass was actually a thick covering of moss broken by scattered tufts of shrubbery. Beneath it was a sheet of pebbles and loose stone. Thane cursed beneath his breath, shifting his sword to a readier position as he steadied himself. But the momentary lapse in attention cost him.

The creature turned with surprising speed and lunged for him. Thane slipped sideways, but not before the curved claws whipped across his arm, tearing his shirt and drawing a line of blood. Almost instantly, the second claw whipped toward him and barely missed his face as he retreated further, swinging his sword in a wide arc to buy himself some room. The creature paused just long enough to avoid the blade and give Thane a chance to gather himself. This time, when the claws came around toward him, Thane ducked beneath the outstretched arm and launched a strike of his own against toward the beast's side. It stepped back awkwardly, leaning heavily on its uninjured leg, but managed to slip out of the way.

Thane shifted his stance, holding the sword with its point directed at his opponent. Footwork was key here. He had to stay out of harm's way until a good opportunity presented itself. He dodged three more slashes before he finally had the chance to counter. After a two-handed strike, the creature stumbled. In a flash, Thane stepped in and stabbed into the creature's side. The blow jarred him as the sword struck bone, then continued sliding inward. He withdrew it quickly, retreating out of range and watching as a fountain of blood gushed from the wound.

The battle continued with the monster's attacks becoming slightly slower and sloppier. Once again, Thane was able to slip inside its guard and, this time, he stabbed into the back of the shoulder. This time, however, Kveykva snagged the collarbone on the way out, hitching his motion and straining the muscles in his arm. The momentary delay cost him. The opposite hand came around as the creature whirled. The back of the huge paw caught him in the shoulder and threw him several yards through the air. His ears rang and the breath left his lungs. Hitting the ground dealt him another shock. Blood flooded his mouth. When his eyes opened, he found himself staring into the wide maw of the beast, which was mere feet from his face. He rolled sideways, muttering a quick spell that shoved him several more feet.

"Thane!" Evaríncel's concerned voice broke into his mind.

_I'm fine. _Thane cursed to himself before spitting out a mouthful of blood. _Just bit my tongue is all. _The battle was not going as he had expected. The monster was tiring, but far more slowly than Thane had hoped. It was time to resort to magic. Thane specialized in what the Riders called Combative Magic. His strength was in using small spells to distract, debilitate, or injure his opponents. The vast majority of these would be ineffective against this creature. Spells that directly affected the beast wouldn't work since it was immune to magic. However, that didn't mean that he had no tricks up his sleeve.

He darted toward the monster shouting "Garjzla, hítka bjart!" He screwed his eyes shut, opening his mind to keep track of where the monster was. Just in time. A bright light blazed through his eyelids, so bright he fancied he could see the individual blood vessels beneath his skin. As it faded, he opened his eyes again to see the beast recoil, shaking its head frantically. Ducking down and to the side, Thane swung his blade in a backhanded swing, neatly hamstringing the monster's only good leg. Even caught off guard as it was, he still barely avoided the counterstrike that whistled over his head.

Even now that it was unable to move, the creature still screamed furious challenges in Thane's direction. The sound was deafening and Thane was certain his eardrums were going to rupture. But he couldn't risk blocking out the sound. Impairing any of his senses could be a death sentence, especially when he didn't fully know the extent of his opponent.

"Excellent. So now he's crippled. You do know you will actually have to kill him?" Evaríncel said casually.

_Oh so it's a him now? _

"Well . . . it's quite clearly a male."

_Shut up please. I'm trying to win a battle here. _In spite of his words, Thane still felt a tremor of unease. It might be unable to move, but it would strike out at him all the harder for its lack of mobility. It was time to pull out his secret weapon. However, it would be necessary for Evaríncel to ensure that Nikkal was distracted so that she didn't observe what he was about to do. This would be a team effort.

_Of course, if it doesn't work, then her seeing my magic will be the least of my problems._

Evaríncel's answer was instantaneous. "She will not. I will make sure of that. Just don't get yourself killed."

Thane nodded. Slowing his breathing, he concentrated on the pounding of his heart. It needed to slow. He couldn't flinch from this. His timing had to be perfect. His movements had to be perfect. He had to be perfect. He glared into the furious gaze of the monster. But now, for the first time, he saw a glimmer of fear staring back at him. The beast knew that it was in a bad way. It knew that, for the first time, it had encountered a hunter that was its equal, perhaps its superior. Thane pointed his sword at its face. "Deyja vil." The monster's nostrils flared.

Then Thane was running. He sprinted at the monster, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as his sword came up. The beast howled, raising clawed paws to meet him. Thane ducked, feeling one of the outstretched talons graze his cheek. The other fell toward him like an avalanche, terrible and swift. The claws were inches from his face. _Please let this work._ Somewhere behind him, he heard Nikkal shriek as Evaríncel lurched, turning on the spot. Thane's brow furrowed as he muttered the word beneath his breath.

"Kveykva"

The magic surged through his fingers, arcing down the blade. Even before he saw a tangible effect, he felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to rise. His skin began to prickle. A soft buzzing noise vibrated through his head as he saw the first, glowing tendril extend outward from the blade. It was followed by a second, then a third. They vanished into the arm attached to the rapidly descending claw. The soft popping sound was audible only because the beast's roar of fury was cut off mid-scream.

He saw the muscles along the creature's body tense painfully. The claw paused, mid-motion. Thane stepped forward and stabbed Kveykva into the monster's stomach. The blade bit through flesh and muscle easily, sliding into the beast's abdomen like a knife through butter. It was a wholly unnerving sensation. Up until now, he had never actually used the blade on another living creature, at least not without carefully guarding the edges. This was the first time his sword had tasted blood, real blood. This was life-blood, spilling out around the edges of his blade. Before the shock could wear off, Thane withdrew the blade and threw himself sideways, rolling once before springing to his feet. A moment after he was clear, the creature recovered and lashed out with its right paw, barely missing his legs.

It collapsed forward, legs dragging uselessly behind as it tried to crawl toward him, roaring its fury, but the sounds were getting weaker. Blood still oozed from the slashes on its legs, but the crimson liquid gushed from the newer wound. At least one internal organ must have been pierced. The roar turned into growl, which soon faded to a soft whimper. The sound was akin to what an injured dog would make and, despite the creature's looks, it pulled at Thane's heartstrings. The monster coughed and its arms gave out, laying it flat against the ground. Thane wanted to end this, wanted to put it out of its misery, but his orders were clear. As little damage as possible was to be done to the corpse. So he stood by, watching with sad eyes as the monster shivered, twitched, and finally fell still.

Thane let out a long breath. _It's over._

"Thane" There was horror in Nikkal's voice. Uncertain of what could be troubling her, he turned. His breath froze in his lungs. He felt his heart skip a beat. Two pairs of eyes were glaring at him from the shadow of the trees. The low, menacing growls were clearly audible, even at this distance.

_Gods above . . . three of them. _

"You know, considering this was clearly a mutated wolf, perhaps we shouldn't be surprised that there was a pack." Evaríncel commented mildly.

_You know, sometimes your logic is unimaginably irritating. _

"Not to worry. I'll handle these two." He whipped around to face the newcomers. Thane saw the massive chest swell and the neck flexed powerfully. A moment later, he opened his jaws and spat a jet of white fire. The heat was so intense that it set the trees ablaze before the fire even reached them. A series of unearthly, bloodcurdling shrieks tore the air, echoing over the roar of the flame. Then Evaríncel snapped his jaws shut, cutting off the blaze.

Thane pursed his lips in an imitation of anger. "Great, now the forest is gonna burn down."

Evaríncel flicked his tail dismissively. "Well, we _do _have magic."

Thane swatted at the armored legs as he passed, striding over to where the fire burned. Lifting his hand, he muttered, "Brisingr letta." Instantly, the fires began to die down and, in moments, the blaze was gone. It was only then that Thane was able to see the twisted shapes of the two creatures. They had died side by side, their skin scorched away by the flame. Their limbs were distorted and charred, the hair burned off. Still, Thane could see blood dripping from cracks in the now leathery exterior. With luck, perhaps the organs wouldn't have been cooked inside the bodies. These two might still be worth taking to the elves for study.

He looked back toward his dragon, "Hey Nikkal, come on, if you want to study these things before we head for Gil'ead, you'd best get a move on."

* * *

Deyja vil – Die well  
Garjzla, hítka bjart – Light, flash bright

After a week of writer's block, here you go. Stay tuned because there may be more before the week is out. :)


	47. Interlude

**Interlude**

The next few months passed uneventfully. News of Thane and Evaríncel's hunt spread through quickly through the ranks of the Riders. There was a new respect when the older riders spoke to them. The witch Nikkal was transported to the Guild outpost at Gil'ead. There was some talk that one of the corpses might be given over to the Magician's Guild as a show of goodwill, but both Arya and Eragon disagreed with the idea. If any evidence was handed over, it would have been the most badly damaged and least salvageable of the three. To do that might have evoked more hatred than goodwill.

It was nearly five months to the day after Thane's return to Sunvarda that word came from Vrenbana that Keres and Vikonyx had successfully completed a canvasing of Golrazi. By this point, whispers of the Bogerk invasion had trickled down the ranks of the Riders, so that news was not shocking. What was shocking was that Eragon had sent a rookie rider on such an important mission. There were grumbles amongst some of the senior Riders that her skill set and experience level did not qualify her for such an undertaking. However, the missive also included a detailed map of Golrazi, complete with topography and cities. It was quite a feat, and one that would prove invaluable should the Dragon Riders ever have cause to expand into their neighboring country, so most of the dissent quickly evaporated.

The KV report, as the Riders had joking taken to calling it, showed the Bogerk line still some 80 miles up the coast of Alagaësia. Even so, patrols along the northern border of the country were immediately increased and it now became practice to fly to the extreme edge of the border and scan the horizon. As Arya had put it, there was no danger yet, but that did not mean they could afford to be careless. Dragon Riders always seemed to attract trouble and there was plenty of that far closer to home . . .

###

A frown marred Keres face pulled the leather strap that tightened her breastplate. It fit snugly. Once again, the dwarven smith Dolgrim had done excellent work. The flowers were delicate and beautiful. The vines swirled in intricate patterns that followed the curves of her body beneath the armor. And, along every line, barbed thorns curved wickedly. In the dead center of the chest, comprised completely of vines, was a dragon. Its claws were thorns, its wings were angled flower petals, and its limbs were thick, strong vines. Two opals marked the eyes and a third, carved piece made black flames that poured from the open mouth. Keres suspected that if Eragon had told her about the design, she would have told him it was ridiculous. But now, looking at it, the dragon looked beautiful and regal. She carefully fitted each piece against her body, tugging on the straps until they were pressed firmly against her. It took nearly a half hour to get the entire suit on properly, more experienced Riders could do it in under 10 minutes, but she finally managed it.

Finally, all that was left was the helm. She blew out a long breath, staring down at the Dragon Riders crest that glinted back at her. This was her first chance to openly represent the Riders. _My first chance and I have to represent us in front of a foreign ruler. I couldn't get something easy like a criminal or a farmer could I? _

Only silence answered her. Vikonyx had waited several miles back, hiding in the very tip of the Spine, which extended up into Golrazi. The northern part of the coastline as relatively flat and filled with only small rivers and streams. There was no place for a dragon to hide, so her partner had agreed to remain hidden in the small foothills until the sunset. Only then would she break cover and follow Keres, circling high above the town where they had located King Rickhard Shiverspear. Elurur was not terribly difficult to find, but it lay in the heart of the Bogurk territory. Keres had actually left Vikonyx more than a day ago. Her speed over distance was comparable to that of the elves and urgals, it might even have been comparable to her master's, but the streams and rivers made it a moot point, as did the need for stealth. Though she had cast a spell to help conceal her, she still had to take care to avoid the numerous Bogurk camps and occupied towns that dotted the landscape. Crossing the rivers presented a similar challenge as she had not yet the skill to walk over the water, as some of the older Riders could, and her spell didn't eliminate the wet footprints she left behind.

Her fingers tightened on the sides of her helmet before she turned it in her hands. She had already secured her hair in a long, loose ponytail that hung down her back in order to keep it out of the way. She was ready. It was time. With a breath to steady her fingers, she placed the helm on her head.

###

Thane stared into the mirror, critically examining every aspect of his appearance. His usual, rough attire had been replaced with a crisp, well-tailored shirt of emerald green. His pants were of a soft, breathable material that would keep him cool in the sweltering city heat. His hair was carefully brushed and styled. Kveykva lay on the desk in front of him, attached to a beautiful belt of silver. Silver was the metal of the Dragon Riders. It was reminiscent of the Gedwey Ignasia. A diamond stud adorned his right ear matching the ring that he wore on his right hand. It was one of the few things he had taken with him when he had left home. It only felt right to be wearing it now.

Turning away from the mirror, he crossed the room, walking out toward the balcony. Though they had no base in Ilirea, the Dragon Riders maintained a tower in the western sector of the city which boasted four rooms for the Riders along with large, cave-like spaces for the dragons. He had selected the room which overlooked the entire city. Stretched out below him, the capitol was a maze of intertwining streets. It had grown since he had last been here. But there would be time for sightseeing later.

Thane and Evaríncel had arrived late the previous evening. He had been sent to the capitol with a message for his father, King Fiachra. Upon discovering that the needed to be delivered, Thane had immediately volunteered for the task. He hadn't seen his family since returning to Alagaësia. Every time he had thought to make the trip, another mission had come up and he had put his plans on hold. This message had been the perfect opportunity. Tarehlak and Nortavog had taken some convincing, but they had eventually agreed to allow him to take the message. Now he was preparing for his audience with the king. He knew that his father would be unaware of which rider they had sent. This visit would be a total surprise.

When he was young, he had dreamed of this day every night. But now that the moment was nearly upon him, all he could feel was nervous. After years in Vrenbana, his attachment to his parents had faded. They had been a part of his early life, but nearly all of the milestones in his life had been shared with the other Riders. It wasn't that he didn't love his family, it was that they were simply not necessary to his life anymore. He was capable of functioning without them.

Evaríncel's warnings had only served to deepen his fears. Whatever happened, these would not be the people he had left so many years ago. Just as his time in Vrenbana had changed him, so too would his family have changed. His mother and father had lived with only one son for many years now. They would be older, wiser, and more experienced in their rule. His brother would no longer be the bumbling youngster that had cried in the line leading up to the eggs. He would be a young prince, raised to rule.

"Are you ready?" Evaríncel spoke up from his room directly beneath the balcony. The white dragon had insisted on flying him to the courtyard. Though he had claimed it was because it wouldn't do for a Dragon Rider to walk through the city on his way to deliver an official message, Thane secretly wondered if it wasn't to remind him of what he was now. No matter what he found in the castle, he could never return to his old life. He was a Dragon Rider, sworn to protect all of the races, and rulers, of Alagaësia.

Thane returned to the desk and picked up his sword, belting it around his waist. _Yes, let's go._

###

Within 10 minutes of removing her concealment spell, Keres had encountered a Bogurk patrol. To their credit, they had responded very quickly to seeing an armed and armored warrior a mere 3 miles outside of their main camp. She had decided to take the main road rather than risk them catching her sneaking toward their camp and assuming she was an enemy spy. When the armored warriors had come into sight, she had halted, waiting for them to approach her. Four of them carried pikes with a strange collection of swords and axes belted to their waists. The fifth and final guard was clearly the leader. His armor was of better make and a massive, two-handed axe was slung across his back. It was he who called out to Keres when they were within range.

"Who are you who comes armed into the territory of King Shiverspear?"

Keres inclined her head politely, but didn't take her eyes off the men. "I am Keres, a member of the Shur'tugal. I come in peace bearing a message from the leader of our order for your King."

One of the men scoffed audibly, but Keres ignored him, keeping her gaze trained on the leader. He studied her as they came closer and halted just a few yards away from her. "Strange, that one claiming to come in peace should be arrayed as if for war."

She held up her hands, deliberately releasing Skraván's hilt. "These are dangerous times. I dared not walk in here unarmed as I was unsure of your people's disposition. I assure you that I mean only to deliver my message and be on my way."

The leader scowled, apparently undecided as to what he should do. Then, one of the other men, an older man with golden hair, leaned over and murmured something in the leader's ear. The frown on the latter's face deepened.

"If you wish," Keres offered, "you may escort me to your King and send your man hiding in the thicket to inform them of our imminent arrival." She saw the men's eyes widen, all except the golden-haired man's. The corners of his mouth merely twitched upward. Keres felt a surge of satisfaction. She knew from her observations that the Bogerk didn't usually have female warriors. That's not to say there were any, but they were few and far between. She needed to make sure these men would take her seriously. She had detected the pulse of the hidden man's mind some time ago. However, it had seemed like the kind of information she should hold on to until it was needed. Now it hit home like a well-aimed lance.

The leader drew himself up to full height. As she had essentially offered to be led to the King under armed guard, there wasn't really much that he could say. However, he did try and use the few options left open to him. "You will need to remove all weapons to come before King Shiverspear."

"I will not." She spoke softly, but firmly. As the men began to bristle, she continued, "I will not walk into a room of armed men without my sword. However, you have my word that I will not draw it unless I am threatened with violence."

"And what good is your word?" One of the younger men snapped.

Her eyes moved to him for the first time and she stared imperiously. Her gaze naturally unnerved people, but when she actually but effort into the gesture, she had found that it was enough to quell most people. "Be careful, good sir. I have found that making enemies unnecessarily is a grave mistake."

The golden-haired man stepped forward, smacking the youngster with his pike. "He meant no offense, I assure you. We have no wish to insult you or your order." She acknowledged his words with a small dip of her head. He looked over at the leader, "Berik, King Shiverspear will want to see this one."

The leader frowned at him, but finally accented. "Surround her. Soini has gone ahead to inform the King." Fixing his gaze on Keres, he said, "Come with us."

###

Thane clutched the piece of paper he was holding, making sure the wind did not tear it from his grip as Evaríncel glided over the city. Eragon's message for King Fiachre was very clear. The Dragon Riders were sending an envoy to the Bogerk king. He was being warned that if he attempted to expand his territory southward, into Alagaësia, that the Riders would oppose him at the border. The message was for the King's ears only and Thane was not even allowed to inform his fellow Riders of what the missive said. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was Keres who would be sent to speak with the Bogerk King.

He could understand why the message must be kept secret. The other Riders had let her initial mission go with minimal complaints, but this . . . She was being sent to parlay with an enemy King. Still, the idea had some merits. Keres had been present for several of Eragon's meetings with foreign rulers and diplomats. As the apprentice of the Head Rider, she would be expected to have political skills far beyond those of Riders who were less acquainted with him. Also, if negotiations went sour, she might need to fight her way out. Her final exam with Eragon already had the makings of a legendary tale, so Thane was certain that she would be able to escape if she needed to.

What was less certain was what message Eragon intended to convey to the King. Was this a message of solidarity? A guarantee that, if the Bogerk invaded, the King could be sure to have the support of the Riders? That would be the most obvious answer, but there were other, underlying meanings to the gesture as well. His father, at least the father he had known, hated war. Was the message warning not to try and appease the Bogerk with a gift of land? There were some unsettled territories in the northernmost areas of Alagaësia. Did Eragon think his father might give up these lands to avoid a larger conflict? Or, and he wasn't sure which was worse, was Eragon concerned that King Fiachre might attempt an invasion himself? There had been murmurs of discontent that the land was becoming too crowded. Farmers were always seeking more space to plant and graze their herds. With the Bogerk only recently entrenched in their new home, it wouldn't be impossible for the Alagaësian army to push them out. Thane sighed, pushing the note back into his pocket. He was glad he wouldn't have to interpret the note.

"What will you do if they ask about your training?" It was the first time Evaríncel had spoken since they had taken off.

Thane considered the question. _I'll answer what I can and if I can't, I'll tell them that. _

The dragon shifted, turning his head to roll one, massive eye in Thane's direction. "Remember, you are not just their son. You are a Dragon Rider. Be aware that they may try to take advantage of that."

_This is my family!_ He protested.

"No" Evaríncel said simply. "They are your kin. They raised you when you were young. But the Riders are your family. These people here have no idea who you are."

_Only because they weren't given the chance. _

"Be that as it may, they may try to use you to influence the Riders. If your father asks you to run an idea past Eragon, what would you do? Would you carry his message? That would constitute an unfair advantage for the Humans over the Elves and Urgals. Though your family may have the best of intentions, they might ask you to do something that would affect your neutrality. You would do well to remember that."

_What do you have against them? _Thane snapped. _They knew me even before you did. _

"And that is why I worry." His words halted the caustic remark that was already on the tip of Thane's tongue. The dragon heaved a sigh that shuddered through his entire frame. "The changes you have made since then have been for the better. You have become a strong, wise young man. I don't want you to regress for the sake of trying to reclaim the feeling of unity you used to have with them."

For a few moments, Thane stared at his partner. Finally, he said, _I'm not going to change myself for them. I miss what I had, I won't lie. I miss having mother tuck me into bed at night. I miss getting into scuffled with Thaddeus. I miss going hunting with father. But I can't go back to that. I don't need that. I want to be on good terms with them, but not at the cost of everything I've accomplished. _He reached forward to lay a hand on the armored neck. _It will be alright. After this is over, we'll go home. Hatvetna wilae waíse gildr. Everything is going to be fine. _He could feel a strange mixture of doubt and gratitude radiating through their mental link. _You know I cannot lie. _

Evaríncel flicked his tail. "You believe that . . . and that is comforting. But we both know that we believe will be, and what actually will be, are not always the same."

###

The sun was nearly on the horizon by the time the longhouse came into view. There had been dead silence the entire way. Still, her guards had not been overly hostile. There were four guards stationed outside the doors to the house. As they showed no surprise, Keres was certain that the scout had informed them of her presence. However, as her guards made to enter the longhouse, the men at the door halted them. One, whose face was hidden behind a bushy, black beard, growled, "Why is she still armed?"

Before the leader of the patrol could answer, Keres spoke up. "I will not surrender my blade. You have nothing to fear from me, but if you attempt to take my sword, I will be forced to resist. My message is of great importance to your leader. You would do well not to hinder me here." Lightening her tone, she added, "Also, as I am currently outnumbered, I am certain that I shall be even more so inside. Are you concerned that all of you might not be able to defend your King from a lone warrior?"

A small jibe might be to her advantage here. In front of the King, it would have been folly, but here it was likely to be effective. If Keres knew anything about men, particularly male warriors, they couldn't stand to have their power questioned by a woman. There was some sort of macho pride that drove all logic from their mind when it came to proving exactly how manly they were. _Ironically, they should be very concerned. I'm pretty sure I could kill all of these guys in under 2 minutes without using magic. Under 30 seconds if I can use magic and under 5 if I used the words of death. _Yet again, silence met her words and she sighed inwardly. _I miss Vikonyx. It's lonely in here when she's gone._

Sure enough, she saw the immediate flexing of muscles beneath the guards' armor and she heard numerous growls of irritation. However, the man with the black beard stepped aside. "You may pass for now, but be aware that we will be watching you very closely."

###

The line of petitioners arrayed in the courtyard had hastily scattered as Evaríncel landed in the only unoccupied corner. Now they huddled on the opposite side of the grounds, staring at the white dragon with both awe and fear. Thane dismounted swiftly, taking a moment to dust of his clothes and straighten his belt. _Will you wait here or go back to the hold? _

"That depends." Came the answer, "I would like to meet your family if they are willing. I have only ever seen them in your memories."

_You saw them the day you hatched. _

"And how well do you remember your first day of life?"

_Fair enough. _Thane strode across the ground, inclining his head to the many petitioners who called out to him and bowed as he passed by. It was still strange to be treated with such reverence. He had gotten used to it during his time as a prince, but though the people in Vrenbana had held the Riders in high regard, they rarely showed the type of awestruck wonder that he encountered here in the country.

He experienced a moment of nostalgia as he began to climb the steps toward the throne room. He had climbed this route so many times as a child. And very little had changed. The steps were more worn and the plants taller, but structure was the same. The usual, faceless guards stood at intervals up the stairs. They neither spoke, nor moved as he strode past him, but he felt their eyes on him. They would have no idea who he was. All they saw was a Dragon Rider, a messenger sent from his order to give a message to their King.

He reached the landing at the top of the stairs without incident. Two guards stood on either side of the doors. Drawing himself up, Thane spoke. "I am here with an urgent message from Eragon Shadeslayer, leader the Dragon Riders."

The guards nodded. They had clearly been informed of his imminent arrival. As they stepped forward and grasped the handles of the door, one looked up at him. "Who shall we announce is entering?"

For a heartbeat, Thane hesitated. Then he lifted his chin. "Tell his royal highness and her majesty that Rider Thane Fiachreson is here."

###

Keres drew a deep breath, forcing her hand away from Skrávan's hilt.

###

Thane ignored the startled looks from the guard and fixed his gaze straight ahead.

###

The doors swung open . . .

* * *

So my goal of getting this posted last week was never achieved. Apologies for that. Please read, review, and enjoy.

_Hatvetna wilae waíse gildr._ – Everything will be fine.


	48. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Keres had expected the noise in the hall to die down as soon as the doors opened. In reality, she was several steps into the room before the nearest men even noticed her. Two large fires burned in the center aisle, each nestled in a square pit built directly into the floor. Above them, two large openings in the ceiling allowed smoke to curl upward and out of the room. The smell of roasted meats hung heavy in the air, along with the scent of beer and fresh-baked bread. Keres, who hadn't eaten since lunch, felt her mouth begin to water. On either side were long rows of benches and tables. These weren't filled to capacity, but there were enough people that Keres felt a prickle of unease. If she had to fight her way out, it might prove more difficult than expected.

"Or I could just tear the roof off and roast them where they sit." The voice sounded in her head and swept all discomfort away.

_Vikonyx. I was worried you wouldn't make it. _

"I have never left you without help before. I do not intend on starting now."

"Apologies for breaking up this little reunion, but perhaps you should concentrate on the task at hand." A third voice joined the conversation.

_Arlentor? Where are you?_

"The one place most people never look."

Keres threw a glance upward and saw a pair of bright eyes glittering at her from the rafters. She had to fight to hide a smile. _I should have known you'd want to watch this._

The eyes blinked. "This is only the appetizer. The main course will come only after you exit. And I intend to feast deeply and heartily."

Vikonyx chuckled. "Well, be sure to tell us what they say."

The eyes blinked again. Keres returned her attention to the room. The crowd, she realized, was not just men, but several women as well. Though many of the men wore pieces of armor, only a few of the women were likewise attired. Most wore simple dresses and jewelry. Keres noted with interest that the fact that they sat side-by-side with the armored warriors indicated a certain level of equality between the genders. However, all pair of eyes, both male and female, had turned to the group now walking down the center aisle. The songs and merry chatter that had filled the air when she entered had faded. Now there was only a tense silence broken by the crackling of the flames and the heavy tramp of her guards' boots.

Keres did her best to maintain a dignified expression. Eragon had often told her that the attempts made her look arrogant and dismissive, so she tried to temper the haughtiness by loosening her jaw. Though she maintained her mental contact with Vikonyx and Arlentor, she was still on alert for any attack. Naturally, she had examined the mind of one of her guards on the way there. He was not aware of any magic users amongst their ranks, but that did not necessarily mean anything. Part of the danger of magic was that it could be kept secret. She had to be on her guard in case the King employed magic-users that his men did not know of. It was what she would have done in his position.

As they passed the second fire, she got her first look at the man who sat on a throne at the far end of the hall. King Shiverspear was smaller than she had expected. After the large, bulky brutes that sat at the tables, she had expected their leader to be something of a giant. On the contrary, he was only a few inches taller than she was. His body was lean and slight. Keres was reminded of the wolfhounds kept by one of the farmers in Vrenbana. It had the same stringy frame, but she had found the dog to be immensely strong when roused. And it seemed unlikely that this man would have gained his position over this war-like people without sufficient strength and skill in battle. His eyes were a bright, piercing shade of blue and his hair was the color of sand. It was brushed and pulled back into a ponytail behind his head and secured with the iron crown that he wore about his brow.

Several guards stood around him, their weapons held at the ready. The throne was set on a dias with four steps leading up to where the king sat. The difference in height meant that the guards stationed before the throne did not obscure the king's view of his subjects, nor did it impair their view of him. Even as she was sizing him up, Keres felt the eyes of the monarch also appraising her. These were critical moments. His first few impressions of her would determine how this entire negotiation went. Squaring her shoulders, she stared back at him, practically daring him to judge her unworthy. His eyebrow twitched upward, a clear indication that he had noticed her defiance.

As she approached, he straightened in his seat and gestured to her guards. "Let her approach."

Immediately, they moved aside, giving her a clear path forward. She took four more steps, coming to the steps leading up to the throne. With deliberate care, she grasped the helm and removed it from her head, stowing it beneath the crook of her left elbow. Crossing her right arm diagonally across her chest, she bowed. "Greetings King Shiverspear. I am Keres White-Eyes of the Shur'tugalar. I have come before you at the behest of Eragon Shadeslayer, leader of our order, who wished me to deliver a message."

He studied her for a moment. "I greet you, Keres, and welcome you into my hall. But I have not heard of this Shur'tugalar, or of your leader. From what land to you hail?"

"We are of Alagaësia, the land to the south."

"Ah" She saw his eyes flicker slightly, "I have heard of this land, though the pronunciation was quite different. And what is your order's role in Alagaësia?"

She stared back into his eyes, feeling her neck prickle as she felt the gaze of the entire hall on her. "That, my lord, is a pivotal part of the message I have been sent to deliver. I could deliver it here, but it would be best delivered in private."

She heard several mutters from behind her and she had to stop her hand from flinching toward Skrávan as the mood in the hall suddenly darkened. Again, the king regarded her for a moment before speaking. "As you wish. But first, I must ask, you have a most unusual name. Is White-Eyes the name of your people, or does it merely describe your appearance? I do not mean to be rude, but I am curious." He added politely.

Keres froze, her mind completely blanking for a heartbeat. This was not going how she had anticipated. She had been prepared for an intense negotiation, not for personal questions.

"It is a ruse." Arlentor's purring voice sounded in her ears. "He does not intend for the men to hear your conversation, but there would be backlash if he dismissed them so soon after your arrival. For now, answer his questions."

_Are you sure?_ When the werecat didn't bother to answer, Keres mentally shook herself. To the king, she said, "As most people openly stare, I must say your approach is one of the least rude I've encountered. I am human, to answer the unspoken question. As far as I know, I'm the only human with such a . . . unique appearance. I don't have a familial name, so I was given a title that suited my appearance. My hope is that eventually I will accomplish some great deed worthy of receiving a new name."

"So you are not blind?"

The question caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered. "No sir, I can see perfectly well."

King Rickhard blinked, clearly interested. "And you say your appearance is unique. So you didn't inherit it from either parent?"

Keres shook her head. "Not that I know of. I never met either of them, but from what people tell me, we share only a passing resemblance." She had no intention of telling them she didn't know who her father was the entire story was far too complicated to explain thoroughly. "Far smarter people than I have attempted to discover why I look this way and failed. I have no qualms with my appearance."

He leaned back in his seat, stroking his beard. "Fascinating" There were a few moments of silence before he suddenly shook himself. "But we've chatted long enough. Every man here below the rank of Jarl is now dismissed. Return to your camps." The command echoed through the room. From what she had learned from the guard's mind, he had just asked all of his foot soldiers to leave. Those left would be his leaders. In spite of the grumbling and curses that she heard behind her, it took only a few minutes before the vast majority of men had left the hall. She now faced a group of less than 30. Six of these were the guards who stood around their king. Not that this was necessary. Keres had already spotted the sword that sat propped against his throne, well within arm's reach. She had a feeling that this wasn't a monarch who would need defending from most enemies.

Inwardly, she couldn't help but sigh. As she had no idea how her message would be received, she would have preferred to give it in private, with only maybe three or four guards. There was no telling how all of these men would feel about what she had to say. Worse, there was a chance that the king would dismiss her out of hand if he felt that his men expected it. That was why she had given him an opportunity to dismiss his followers. It was one of the tricks that Eragon had taught her. Leaders were often more open to negotiation if their men weren't listening to their every word. However, perhaps she needn't worry. After all, King Shiverspear didn't strike her as a man who would be easily influenced by others.

"You always assume the worst." Vikonyx broke in. "Should he prove averse to hearing reason, perhaps his followers will be more receptive. There is a flip-side to every argument."

_Perhaps. _Lifting her head, Keres addressed the king. "To answer your previous question regarding our vocation, we are the guardians of Alagaësia. We answer to no monarch, but act as liaisons between the four rulers of our land. It is our job to keep the peace and ensure the fair treatment of all citizens regardless of race, color, or religion."

King Shiverspear stroked his short beard thoughtfully. "So you are warriors . . . an army?"

"In a manner of speaking. We are all trained in combat, but it rarely requires more than one for any task we are faced with." She couldn't resist a small bit of bragging.

"Then why were you sent to deliver this message? You seem quite young for such a task."

Keres smiled wryly, allowing the king to see her expression. "Many have underestimated me because of my youth. None have ever done so twice. But your question is a valid one. I am the only apprentice that Eragon has ever trained. He has as much faith in me as one can possibly have in a subordinate."

To her surprise, he chuckled. "Your irritation at my question is understandable. We do not see many female warriors, and none have been as well attired as you." He nodded a few times. "Now, what message did your leader wish for you to bring to me?"

Drawing herself up to full height, Keres said, "Eragon wishes you to know that he welcomes you to this land. We have no stake in Golrazi, thus, we have no reason to oppose you. However, should you attempt to expand your territory southward, into Alagaësia, then conflict between our forces would be unavoidable. We would be friends, if it were possible. However, we will defend our home should it become necessary."

She had watched every man in the room, excepting the king, stiffen as she spoke. Rickhard's eyes only narrowed.

There was movement to her left and, for the first time, one of the other men spoke. "Is that a threat?"

Keres turned her head slightly, angling her chin to make the gesture more menacing. Staring into the speaker's face, she spoke softly. "I am a Shur'tugal. We do not make threats."

Though he fell silent, a man to his right spoke up. "Who do you think you are that you walk into our territory and speak like you're better than us? Who are you to threaten our king?"

Keres watched as hands reached for weapons and she resisted the urge to go for her own. _If I draw my sword, all is lost here. _"My intention was not to threaten. I have the utmost respect for you and your king. I have seen your strength and the handiwork of your warriors. However, if that comment was merely meant to intimidate me, as I assume it was, I must inform you that it will not work." _Intentional misunderstanding is a crucial tool in negotiation. It can allow your opponent to escape a blunder or shift focus from a particular point you don't want him latching onto. _

A burst of laughter rang through the hall and everyone turned to look at the golden-haired guard who had brought her here. His body shook as he doubled over with mirth. "This lass has spirit. Thegn Geir, you seem to have lost your edge. Perhaps we should find you a baby to practice on? Or perhaps a kitten?"

The laughter spread and, a moment later, the hall was laughing as well. Another man, this one with graying hair, spoke up. "He's right. Anyone with eyes can tell that this is a warrior."

The man named Geir shook his head. "You can put a cow in armor. That doesn't make it a warrior."

Keres bristled slightly, but refused to let it show on her face. _I could kill you with a word, you pig. Just one word. It would look like an accident._

"Keres" Vikonyx chided, "What did Eragon tell us about killing people who annoy us?"

Inside her head, Keres growled. _That it's unacceptable. _

"Because?"

_Most people look at me and see a young woman. They can't be faulted for not knowing who and what I am. _

"Very good."

_Will you stop patronizing me?_

"Enough" King Shiverspear's command cracked through the hall and everything fell still. In a softer, more deliberate voice, he said, "I assume that this . . . friendly advice . . . is non-negotiable?" Keres nodded. He watched her for a moment longer. Then she saw a faint tug at the corners of his mouth. "Miss Keres, I have no doubt that Geir's thoughtless words offended you." She blinked, but didn't respond. "Svend, what say you? Is she a warrior?"

At first, Keres couldn't tell who he was speaking to. Then a man stepped forward from the crowd. Had she seen him in silhouette, she might have mistaken him for a small urgal. His shoulders were broader than any she could remember seeing on a human. Swelling muscles flexed beneath his skin and, as she saw the singed skin on his bare forearms, she realized that this man must be a smith. He approached her with easy strides, then began to circle her slowly. His eyes appraised the armor critically for a few seconds before she spoke.

"This armor is clearly the work of a master. And, judging by its fit, I'm assuming it was made specifically for her, meaning you." She nodded. He continued, "I've never seen its equal anywhere, even amongst our own smiths. We prefer chainmail, it being easier to move in. However, though this armor is plate, the joints are crafted perfectly to allow maximum movement. May I?" She allowed him to take her hand, while he tested the elbow joint of her right arm. It flexed effortlessly. He shook his head, swearing softly under his breath. "Masters, the kind that become legends, don't make armor for just anyone. Nor would any master take the time to embellish the armor in such a way if it was to be worn by a common soldier."

King Shiverspear inclined his head, "Thank you, Svend." Keres returned her gaze to the king, doing her best to make her face unreadable. His smile grew wider by the moment. "No, you are no common warrior. And I suspect that the other members of your order would be much the same." He cocked his head slightly, like a delighted child. "Tell me, Keres, if I were to order my men to attack you, how would you respond?"

In spite of herself, Keres the smallest of grins creep across her face. She had watched Eragon play these games with many foreign diplomats, but none had shown such obvious delight as this king. "That would be a most unwise decision."

His smile widened. "I have no doubt you are correct." He rose from his seat. "I thank you for delivering this message. Your leader is indeed a good man to reach out to us in spite of the intervening distance." Moving toward her, he extended a hand. "I hope I should get to meet him someday. Please give him my best regards."

She nodded, taking the offered hand. "I will do so. And I thank you for your hospitality, King Shiverspear. It was an honor to have met you." Turning to look at the other men gathered around, she inclined her head to them before replacing her helm upon her head and turning on her heel. She had only taken three steps when she felt the familiar tingling on the back of her neck. The whistle of metal cutting through air reached her sensitive ears. Quickly addressing the situation around her, she wrapped her left hand around Skrávan's hilt. In a single, smooth motion, she drew the sword and turned, identifying the oncoming weapon in a moment. Her muscles flexed as she made a quick, upward strike.

Something whoosed past either side of her face. With almost simultaneous thuds, both halves of the throwing axe embedded themselves in the wall. She found herself staring into the glowing eyes of King Rickhard. She sheathed her blade, tilting her head slightly and grinning openly at the king. She bowed, "Should we meet again, I will be sure to replace your axe." Then she turned and strode out of the hall, pushing the doors open before her. Before they closed, she heard the loud, booming laughter that echoed down the hall from the throne.

Outside, campfires burned in the darkness. Every way she looked, she saw pairs of eyes staring at her. Some were hostile, some were curious, some were openly awestruck. Forcing herself to maintain the air of dignity, she walked calmly toward the edge of the camp. She could feel Vikonyx circling high above her and called out to her partner with her mind.

_I'm going to keep this pace until I'm out of sight. Once I find a good hiding place, I'll shed the armor. _

"I saw the remains of a burned-out town about thirty miles south of here. Shall I meet you there?"

_Yes, that sounds good. I will be there as soon as I can. _The acknowledgement she received was tinged with amusement. _What?_

"It would appear that Eragon selected the right candidate for this job. You and King Rickhard seem to have hit it off."

Keres smiled inwardly. _I hope he heeds Eragon's warning. I like him. It would be shame if he had to die._


	49. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

For a moment, Thane had a flash of nostalgia as the Great Hall was revealed inch-by-inch by the opening doors. Then he shook himself and quickly stepped inside after the guard. Everything was almost exactly as he remembered it. This hall was the place where the King heard all petitioners and hosted his grand banquets. Currently, the tables were gone, removed to one of the castle's many storerooms, and the massive space was empty save for the tiered benches that lined each side. From there, any who wished could watch the petitioners who came before the King. A single, purple carpet stretched the door to where the throne sat at the head of the hall. The throne sat empty at present. As a representative of the Dragon Riders, Thane was entitled to meet the King in a small side-room where most of the kingdom's political decisions were made.

The only change was the banners that lined the walls. Every noble house under the rule of the crown was entitled to have their banner hung here. Most, Thane recognized. There was the grey and green banner of house Hammard, who ruled in Palancar Valley, the red and white banner of house Elren in Ceunon, the blue and silver banner of house Risthart in Tierm, the yellow and black banner of house Leandra in Feinster, and the turquoise and gold banner of house Broquen of Kuasta. However, there were four new banners that he didn't recognized. Some of the old ones had also vanished, Thane noted with interest. That could mean only three things: either the line had failed, it had failed to produce a male heir and the female heir had married, or the family had fallen out of favor and been relieved of their title. The first two were obviously preferable to the last.

Thane followed the guard to the side door behind which King Fiachre held negotiations with foreign politicians. Pounding hard on the door with a mailed fist, the guard announced, "Thane Fiachreson of the Dragon Riders to see you my king."

There was a pause, then a voice called, "Enter." The tone was deep and authoritative, just as Thane remembered it.

The guard pushed open the door and gestured for Thane to enter. He did so, taking a final breath before he rounded the corner and stepped through the opening. His father stood on the opposite side of a thick, wooden table. He had thickened slightly, since Thane had left. His lithe frame had filled out, though Thane had no doubt that his father was still a fierce warrior. The face was familiar, if filled with more lines than he remembered. Most telling, however, were the streaks of gray that peppered the king's raven-black hair. Thane had always heard that ruling aged people prematurely. He had never really considered the implications of that until now.

King Fiachre stared at him for a full minute, his expression unreadable. Then, as the door shut behind Thane, the king moved. In a few, swift strides, he was around the table and standing before his son. Thane realized with some surprise that he was slightly shorter than his father, but only by an inch or so. Suddenly remembering his manners, Thane twisted his hand over his chest and bowed, "King Fiachre, the Riders send their regards."

The words seemed to jolt the king out of a reverie. He blinked. "I welcome you to Ilirea, Thane Fiachreson." The last word seemed to catch in his throat.

Deciding to risk a deviation from formality, Thane prompted. "Are you well, father?"

In response, the king began to laugh. It started as a low chuckle, then rose to a sustained roar and held there for some time. Finally, he answered. "I . . . have received a bit of a shock. But no doubt I will soon recover." He offered a hand to his son. "I knew the Riders were sending an emissary, and that you were back in the country, but I never expected them to send you."

Thane considered telling his father that he had requested the job, but thought better of it. That was between him and the Riders. Taking the offered hand, he instead said, "Well, my apologies for surprising you like this. I had hoped to eventually come back on my own terms, but fortune had other plans. Either way, I am glad to be back and glad to see you, father."

The king laughed again. "Ah, your mother will be thrilled. I'll have to send a messenger for her."

"Actually," Thane broke in, "I would prefer to deliver my message now. I know that you are pressed for time, and business should always come before pleasure."

There was a flash of something inscrutable behind the king's eyes, then he smiled and nodded. "Of course." Returning to his side of the table, he gestured for Thane to sit. "Please, deliver your message."

Thane sat, taking care to position Kveykva so that the sheath didn't damage the antique chairs. Finally, he locked eyes with his father and began to speak. "Eragon Shadeslayer, leader of our order, wishes you to know that a Rider has been dispatched to assess the extent of the Bogurk invasion of Golrazi."

King Fiachre's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward slightly, "Assess?"

"The Rider was given strict orders not to engage any Bogurk forces unless attacked. The mission was to scout the Bogurk territory and report back on how much land they have appropriated and the approximate strength of their army."

"And?"

Thane shifted slightly, "The results of the report are currently known only to the highest ranking members of our order." He had expected his father to ask the question, but that did not make the blatant refusal of information any easier to deliver. "Suffice to say that, should such information become important, we will be glad to share it."

There was silence for a moment, then the king said, "Is that all?"

"No" Thane squared his shoulders, determined not to be cowed by the look his father was giving him. "Eragon also wishes you to know that he had this Rider deliver a message to the Bogurk king. He was informed that the Dragon Riders would not oppose him as long as he respected the Alagaësian border. However, should he cross into this country, then we will have no choice but to respond with force."

Silence. The king actually looked shocked for a second. He quickly concealed the expression, but not quickly enough. Blinking a few times, he finally said, "So . . . you sent a message to an invading army to tell them that you will not fight unless they cross our border."

"Correct"

A frown creased Fiachre's brow as he continued, "So, if I were to pledge support to Golrazi and help them drive out these invaders . . .?" He let the question hang.

"Then we would aid you only if such battles resulted in the Bogurk crossing border of Alagaësia." Thane finished for him.

"And what about our people? If they die, you will not come to their aid?"

Thane hesitated for a moment, trying to construct his response to be as diplomatic as possible. "We are here to protect all people. Attempting to assist you outside of our jurisdiction could bring the war here, where it will involve not just you, but the elves, dwarves, and urgals as well. Also, Golrazi made it clear that our services were not needed within their realm. We cannot disregard their wishes now."

"Even to save them?" There was a flash of real anger in the King's eyes as he broke in.

"Even to save them." Thane repeated calmly. He did not add that the government of Golrazi, though it might appreciate their aid initially, might not be so pleased in the long run. Governments that were upstaged and humiliated during times of war often did not rule for very long in the aftermath. He felt that part of his task as the bearer of this message was to fully understand the implications of what a war outside of Alagaësia would mean for the Riders. His studies had revealed a surprisingly complex political landscape that he wasn't certain his father fully comprehended.

They sat in silence for a long moment. Thane could see his father's eyes darting from side to side, as they always did when he was deep in thought. Finally he sighed and leaned back in his seat. "I don't suppose that Eragon would ever reconsider?"

The comment fell somewhere between a statement and a question. "We defend Alagaësia." He said softly. "Eragon has spoken."

King Fiachre blew out a long breath. "Well, I can see why you wanted to get this over first. No good to have this sort of thing hanging over our heads." He rose to his feet. "I've got a full morning of petitioners to deal with. Will you go see your mother while I'm busy?"

"Of course. I'd like to see her."

"And will you be joining us for dinner?"

Thane hesitated. He wanted to make sure that he made his position with the Riders perfectly clear, however, he could see little harm in eating a quiet dinner with his family. So long as his parents didn't plan anything too large, he supposed it would be alright. "Only if you agree not to make a spectacle of it. Just a quiet, family dinner?"

The king laughed, "If you wish. Though it will be your mother you will really have to convince."

Thane chuckled, "Yes, I suppose we know who really runs the castle, don't we?"

Their combined laughter was cut short as a small door against the wall flew open and a man stepped hurriedly inside. For a moment, Thane didn't recognize the newcomer. Then his eyes widened, "Thaddeus?"

His brown hair had been cut up to his shoulders and hung magnificently around his face. His dark eyes were harder than they had been in childhood and his face was tense. He now stood nearly four inches taller than Thane, and he wore a beautifully embroidered shirt and well-tailored pants. Glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. Altogether, he was the picture of a well-bred noble.

Thaddeus glanced at Thane before turning his attention to his father. "I thought that I was to be present at all diplomatic meetings."

The king shrugged, "As you can see, this wasn't exactly the meeting I was expecting. I forgot to send for you."

Thane couldn't help but notice that there was no apology after these words. The lack didn't escape Thaddeus either, who turned his eyes once more upon his brother. He inclined his head slightly, "Thane." The word was clipped and tight. In spite of Thane's happiness to see his brother, something within him tensed at the tone. He had heard it any times before. It was a failed attempt at dismissiveness. Members of the Magician's Guild sometimes took that tone when conversing with the Dragon Riders, as did some of the less friendly elves, dwarves, and urgals. The tone was that of someone who felt that they were being challenged, even threatened. Though Thane had no intention of doing either, he couldn't help but bristle slightly.

"Thaddeus. How are you?" He forced the last part out, attempting to ease some of the tension.

"I am well." Once again, the response was curt.

Sensing the tension, King Fiachre stepped forward. "Thaddeus, would you be so kind as to escort your brother to the library? Amaraye doesn't yet know that he's here and I'd like to surprise her." Though it was phrased as a question, his tone of voice left no doubt that it was a command.

Thaddeus' eyes narrowed slightly, then, with feigned lightness, he responded. "Of course, father." To Thane, he gestured, "Well, follow me."

As they headed toward the door, Fiachre called, "I will see you at dinner tonight."

They stepped through the side door and into a hallway. Thaddeus began to walk back toward the living quarters, ignoring his brother, who trailed along behind him. Desperate to try and bridge the unexpected gap, Thane prompted, "How have things been around here?"

"You mean in the 16 years you've been gone?" Thaddeus snapped.

Thane halted, glaring at his brother's back, "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" Thaddeus' voice grew deadly quiet. Whirling to face Thane, he snapped, "My problem is that after 16 years of no contact you just waltz in here unannounced."

"I sent letters!" Thane protested.

Thaddeus rolled his eyes, "Oh and a lot of good those did. Mother still has them. Every one. Did you know that? She reads them every year on your birthday. Life here was never the same after you left. I was expected to be good enough for two princes. All the hopes our parents had for you ended up thrown onto my shoulders. So don't expect me to be happy to see you."

Anger rose in Thane's chest and, before he could stop himself, he snarled, "Well, at least now that I'm a Rider, you'll get to be king one day."

Thaddeus' face flushed with fury and he took a step toward Thane, "How dare you, you little"

He was cut off mid-sentence as a two servants appeared around a corner, carrying baskets full of linens. Both women froze, their faces draining of color as they saw the two men standing in the corridor. Thane and Thaddeus quickly stepped apart. Thaddeus straightened his glasses as Thane carefully smoothed his ruffled clothing. With long, sweeping strides, Thaddeus began to walk again, nodding to the two women as he passed. Thane did likewise.

His words had been a low blow and Thane knew he should have apologized, but he couldn't bring himself to. There had always been a bit of unspoken tension since he and Thaddeus were little over who would inherit the throne. They couldn't rule jointly, both had known that. Even when they were young, they had constantly striven to outdo each other, hoping to prove to their father that they were the better candidate. Thane had excelled in his swordplay and diplomacy, at least in what little he could do as a child, while Thaddeus had excelled in academics. Being a Dragon Rider had been the only acceptable alternative to becoming a king, as far as Thane was concerned. The moment Evaríncel had hatched for him, all thoughts of the kingship had vanished from his thoughts. Occasionally, he had reflected that his becoming a Rider had kept him from what could have been a horrible battle with his brother. He had hoped that, perhaps, his position might have saved their relationship. It seemed that he was mistaken.

They walked the rest of the way in a tense silence. Halting before the library door, Thaddeus said, "She's in there." Before turning on his heel and stalking away. Thane watched him good, feeling that he should try to amend the situation, but could think of nothing to say. Instead, he watched as Thaddeus retreated down the hall and vanished from sight. Sighing, Thane put his hand on the door and pushed it open.

As always, the library was full of light. It streamed through the vast windows and poured golden rays into every corner of the room. And sitting, with her back to him on a bench near the center of the room, was his mother. Her brown hair was pulled back in a bun and she wore a beautiful purple dress that bared her slender arms. His mouth going uncomfortably dry, Thane walked toward her, moving until he stood just behind her. Over her shoulder, he could see the tome she was reading. It was an elven love ballad, written in the Ancient Language. She was the only one of the royal family who was truly fluent in the language, and he had always written a small message for her in each of his letters, knowing that she would know what it meant even if his father and brother didn't.

"Du evarínya fol unin sinartr eom vaen onr. The stars dim in comparison to your beauty."

She chuckled, "Your pronunciation has improved."

"I certainly hope so. I've spent 15 years practicing it." He saw her muscles tense and she turned on the couch, her eyes widening as they fell on him. Thane smiled, "Hello mother."

Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she threw down the book and rushed to him, throwing her arms around his chest. He hugged her back, surprised to feel his own eyes getting misty. After a few minutes, she released him and studied his face. "You've grown."

He grinned, "But you haven't aged a day."

"Ah, but you're still a terrible liar." She laughed, hugging him again. "I take it you were the messenger the Riders were sending?"

He nodded. "I've been looking for an opportunity to come and visit, but I haven't had the chance until now."

"We know. We heard about the monster you killed. You should have seen your father. He smiled so wide, I thought his face might crack." She put a hand on his cheek, "When that dragon chose you, I was so worried. But it looks like you've grown into a fine young man."

"I've tried." He laughed, "Though Evaríncel had a lot to do with that."

"Who?"

Thane laughed. "My dragon. I keep forgetting that you've never really met him. You'd like him. He's very sensible." It felt good to speak of his partner as he was. His family, as the royal family, was already aware that the dragons were every bit as intelligent as humans.

"Well, that is good to hear." Amaraye chuckled. "Sensibility was always your weak point."

"Would you like to meet him?" It was an impulsive question, but one that pleased him. After all, both his mother and his dragon were huge parts of his life. Why not bring the two of them together?

She smiled, "Yes, of course I would."

He took her arm, and began to lead her out of the library and down the hall. As they went, she plied him with questions about his job. There were some things he couldn't tell her, and she respected those areas, but what he could tell her, he relayed with gusto. He knew that giving up her son, even to such a noble cause, must not have been easy. She listened attentively to everything that he said, sometimes stopping him to ask questions. The barrage of questions continued until they had stepped out of a side exit and into one of the private gardens. It was only then that he contacted his partner.

_Can you come meet us?_

"Where?"

Thane sent him a mental image of their location. It wasn't long before the thunderous rush of giant wings reached their ears. Evaríncel lowered himself slowly to the ground, taking care to avoid the numerous statues that dotted the lawn. His talons gouged the ground as he landed, swinging his head around to observe the woman. Amaraye held herself proudly, though her chest heaved with excitement.

"He's beautiful!" She whispered.

Thane grinned.

Evaríncel lowered his head until he could regard her with a single, massive white eye. "You have her eyes. She is a strong looking woman and her face has more character than most." He snorted, "Tell her that I am honored to meet the mother of my soul-partner."

When Thane relayed the message, Amaraye reached out a tentative hand and touched the dragon's armored nose. "You have kept my son safe and, for that, I can never thank you enough." She paused before adding, "When first you took him, I resented that my son had left me for you. But I suppose that this was the path that was chosen for him. He can protect our kingdom in a way that neither his father, nor I ever could. Moreover, he has become a strong young man with steadfast friends. I could not have asked for anything more."

Evaríncel eyed her calmly before blowing out a long breath. Amaraye withdrew her hand quickly, looking somewhat embarrassed. With a twitch of his tail, the white dragon raised his wings and took off from the garden, buffeting them with great gusts of wind. To Thane, he said, "I will return to our rooms now. Contact me when you wish to be picked up."

Surprised at the abrupt departure, Thane prompted _Are you alright?_

There was a pause, then, "I . . . I am. I just require time to think." He refused to say more.

Thane watched him go, puzzled at the strange behavior. Then he shrugged. Even after all these years, he still didn't fully understand his partner. But that was alright. They would talk when Thane returned. Looking back at his mother, Thane smiled, "Father asked if I would stay for dinner tonight. Since we have quite some time until then, perhaps we could take a tour of the city? I haven't had the chance to visit it since my return."

The queen's face lit up in a smile. "Of course! We have made several improvements since you left and there are some new shops down in the market district that are absolutely lovely!" She continued to speak even as she lead him back into the castle, Thane casting one last glance over his shoulder as the white figure of his partner retreated into the distance.


	50. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

It quickly became evident than King Rickhard had sent men to follow her. In a way, Sable knew she would have been highly disappointed if he hadn't. In another, she was irritated at the detours and extra spells that outfoxing them necessitated. She had to go three miles before she felt comfortable halting to remove her armor. Wrapping it in cloth to keep the metal from clanging together or scratching, she slung the pack over her shoulder and began to run. With her enhanced abilities, she quickly outpaced the men trailing her.

Darkness fell across the landscape, the new moon aiding her attempt to avoid notice. The simple chameleon spell she had placed on herself made her nearly invisible in the blackness. Though she kept contact with Vikonyx the entire time, the dragon could not land until they were far enough away from the Bogurk encampment. In spite of the darkness, they were unwilling to risk being seen now. They were nearly finished with their mission. To be spotted now would mean that all their work and care would be for naught. She had been running for nearly two hours before the ruins came into sight. Vikonyx hovered in the clouds high above her, scanning the area behind them in case someone had managed the impossible: tracking them in the dark. Luckily, she hadn't spotted anything.

Keres slowed to a jog, then to a walk, watching the soot beneath her feet puff with every step. The sight that greeted her made her chest ache with sorrow. The town had clearly been torched, but sections of the burnt remains still showed the damage that had preceded the burning. Doors were smashed in and what little remained hung at odd angles. Windows were shattered and littered the street with fragments of glass, both colored and uncolored. A sickly-sweet stench rose from the well in the center of the town, so strong that Keres could smell it even at a distance. _Unnecessary. If the villagers wanted water, they could go to some of the freshwater streams around here. _

"Wow" Vikonyx snorted, "That was not where I thought you were going with that."

_I'm just saying that this seems like overkill. The Bogurk really wanted these people out. But why? They usually try to assimilate towns like this. _

"I do not know, but I can see the remains of what appear to be barricades. It could be that this town tried to resist when the Bogurk attacked."

Keres' mouth tightened. _So this town was an example then. Utterly destroy the one that fights back and the ones that were on the fence will fall in line._ A thought flickered through Vikonyx's mind, so quickly that Keres couldn't grasp it. But she sensed that it had to do with her. _What?_

"It is nothing."

_It is not. _

"I do not wish for you to get angry."

_I'll get angry if you don't tell me what you thought. _

Vikonyx, perhaps sensing that she was in a no win situation, said, "You seem angered by the tactic and that surprises me."

_Why?_

"Because you have often argued for the same thing in regards to criminals and outlaws."

Keres blinked, glancing up toward the sky. After considering the words for a moment, she responded. _It is not the same. At least, I don't see them as being the same. The ends are completely different. _

"Are you really going to argue that the ends justify the means?"

Keres flinched slightly. That was a discussion that she had Eragon had multiple times. _In this case, I think so. There is a difference between making an example of one criminal to prevent others from committing crimes, and making an example of a village so that the others won't resist invasion. _

"I believe that you are right, as far as this situation is concerned. But be wary of that logic. Sometimes it is sound, other times, it may prove harmful."

_Well do I . . ._ The thought was snapped off part-way through. A faint chink of glass, so soft that, had her hearing not been so sensitive, she would have missed, sounded from somewhere behind her. And Vikonyx was still in the sky. Keres whirled, her hand reaching for Skrávan and preparing to draw it for a vicious slash. She was just in time to see a whisper of dust settle just inside the doorway of a burned-out house. She opened her mind, stretching out a tendril of thought toward the building. A moment later, she came into contact with two minds crouched just behind the wall. For a moment, she was puzzled, then recognition dawned on her. Keeping her hand on the hilt, she called, "You, in the house, come out now." When there was no movement, she sighed. "I mean you no harm, but if you do not come out, I will come back in there and get you."

For a second, nothing stirred, then Keres' sharp ears caught the sound of whispers. Then, every so tentatively, a young boy emerged from the wreckage. Just behind him, following in his shadow, was a young girl. They were so alike that it was impossible that they could be anything but twins. Their raven-black hair was rumpled and shaggy. Two pairs of identical hazel eyes looked suspiciously at her. Even their clothes, which had clearly once been different colors, were now the same dirty shade of ash-gray. Their frames were skinny and their faces were sunken with cheekbones protruding.

Keres relaxed her posture, looking them both over carefully. "What are you doing here?"

They glanced at each other, but didn't speak.

Keres leaned over, putting her eyes on their level. "It's alright, I'm a friend." Realizing they might not understand her, she reached out with both her consciousness and her voice, saying, "Eka aí fricai." Though this time she was certain that they didn't understand her, but the Ancient Language ensured that her meaning was understood. When neither of the children relaxed, her brow furrowed. _Why won't they speak? They aren't mute, are they?_

"Perhaps," Vikonyx offered, "they do not speak because they know you won't understand them?"

Again, speaking with both mouth and mind in the Ancient Language, she asked, "What is wrong?"

The girl darted forward. Keres's hand moved toward her blade almost as a reflex, but she quelled the motion not wanting to startle the children by drawing a sword. To her surprise, the child seized her hand and began pulling her back toward the house where the children had been sheltering. In an accented voice, she whispered, "You must come miss. You must. Hurry!"

Blinking, Keres allowed the girl to pull her into cover. To her surprise, she saw that the children had created a makeshift ladder within the structure. The series of barrels, crates, and assorted pieces of wood stretched up to the top of the wall, which was just wide enough for them to sit on. The boy, who had entered first, was already partway up the ladder. Keres cocked her head to one side, "I don't understand. What are we hiding from?"

"The cats." This time the boy spoke, huffing as he pulled himself up onto the wall, reaching down to extend a hand to his sister.

"Cats?"

"Yes, the big cats. They come every night. Sometimes they stay for hours. They walk around the wall and watch us. But they don't like the sunlight, so they're always gone by dawn."

Keres frowned. _Viknoyx, do you see anything? _

"Give me a moment." The faint thudding of the dragon's wings reached Keres's sensitive ears as her partner dipped below the clouds high above. From the ground, her partner was visible only as a darker mass against the black of the sky. After a few moments, she said, "Three shapes approach between the houses to the west."

Reaching out with her mind, Keres quickly found the three creatures. What she saw wasn't good. They were sabercats, creatures native to Golrazi. They were clever and ruthless hunters. Worse still, these particular sabercats were voraciously hungry. Her initial plan to convince them to leave using Gramarye. That clearly wasn't going to work. That meant the only thing left to her was to make them see that tangling with her was more trouble than it was worth. _But if I use any big displays of magic, it might frighten the kids off too. _Running through her options, she settled on one that seemed both the easiest and most effective. She would take partial control of the creatures' minds, just enough to nudge the fear centers in their brains. Then she would cast a spell that would create an illusion to scare them away. If all went as planned, the children would never even know that she had used magic.

Furrowing her brow, she set about trying to insert herself into the minds of the cats. It was a bizarre feeling, as she felt her consciousness being pulled in three different directions. Taking control of multiple beings, even relatively unintelligent beings, would have been a challenge. These were three hunters. They were clever and actually had a plan for stalking their prey. Though they couldn't actively resist her attempts to control them, the sheer difficulty of trying to direct 4 bodies at once quickly set veins to throbbing in her forehead.

By the time she had managed to gain a modicum of control over them, the cats had already appeared in the central street. They skirted the base of a small hill that sat off to one side of the village, approaching like shadows in the darkness. Luckily, their fur wasn't black. The western version of the sabercat tended to have golden fur, which made them stand out to her sharp eyes as if they glowed with an inner light. As they strode toward her on silent paws, she began to speak a long, complex spell beneath her breath. It had several parts and consisted of five total lines. As she finished, she felt the magic leave her. It was significantly less than she had expected, but as the spell merely created an illusion as opposed to having a physical effect, she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Much to her delight, she saw the creatures falter, their steps coming more slowly until they came to an abrupt halt.

Keres murmured a few more lines, enhancing the spell. She heard Vikonyx chuckle as she saw the outcome of the spell in Keres's mind. Keres couldn't help but smile as well. _Really, what's more frightening than an angry dragon? _

"Nothing" Vikonyx agreed. "But you should hurry before they realize that it isn't real."

Nodding, Keres sent a series of emotions to each of the three cats, along with disjointed words in the Ancient Language. _Fire. Enemy. Danger. Pain. Fear. Run. Run! _The first two cats took flight almost immediately, but the third lingered for a moment, teeth bared as if it intended to fight rather than flee. Frowning, Keres muttered another, shorter spell. The cat yowled in fright as an invisible force pricked its flank. Whirling, it bolted after its colleagues, disappearing back into the darkness. Letting out a long breath, Keres slowly removed her hand from the hilt of her sword.

"Well played, heart-sister." Vikonyx murmured in her mind

Acknowledging the complement with a flicker of thought, Keres turned her attention back to the two children. She saw that they had already climbed down from the roof. Both carried large, pointed sticks in their hands. With a flicker of warmth, she realized that they had most likely intended to try and rescue her. Instead, they were both staring at her with wide, awestruck eyes. Grinning at them, she said, "Well, we sure showed them didn't we?"

When neither of them responded, she reached down to her hip and removed her water skin from her belt, "Are you thirsty?"

As they shifted their gaze to the skin, Keres took a few steps forward, offering the skin to the boy. He took it and quickly passed it to his sister. She uncorked it and took several long gulps. Passing it back to her brother, he drank deeply as well. When he offered the skin back, Keres held up her hand. "Keep it for now. But I need to know, what are you doing here?"

The girl piped up, "We live here."

Keres raised her eyebrows, "Where are you parents?"

Tears welled in the girl's eyes and she buried her face in the boy's shoulder. It was he who answered her. Lifting a finger, he pointed west, "They're there."

Keres followed the line of the child's hand. At first, she thought he was pointing toward the small hill that the cats had skirted. Then, as her vision shifted, she sudden realized what she was staring at. Bile rose within her throat and she had to fight so that she wouldn't be sick. What she had taken for a hill was actually an elaborately constructed pyre. It, like much of the town, was blackened, a sure sign that it had been used for the ritual burning of a body, but that was not what horrified her. Instead of a stack of logs beneath the wooden platform, she could see the twisted remains of skeletons. There must have been at least 40, piled together and used as fuel. The only solace was that the bodies were so stretched out that it was highly unlikely that they had been burned alive. Still, the thought that anyone could have used human bodies to fuel a funeral pyre . . .

"Do not be so quick to judge." Vikonyx warned. "Once a creature has died, its body become nothing more than simple matter. You would not mourn the carcass of a deer, why do you mourn that of a human?"

An argument leapt to Keres' lips, but she bit it back as realization broke over her. In her mediations, she had learned that animals were every bit as alive as humans. Though she didn't necessarily share Eragon's belief that all life was equal in merit, she knew that the process of weighing one life versus another was a very slippery slope. Returning her attention to the children, she murmured, "I'm sorry. Are you alone then?"

The boy nodded and the girl sniffled, wiping away tears that had welled up in her eyes. Keres' heart went out to them. She might have been able to fend for herself at that age, but only because she had been trained in magic. Neither of these children had been, she had gleaned at least that much from their minds.

_Vikonyx, do you mind landing a ways away? Or else staying in the air? I don't want them to see you. _

"No, I will fly a while longer and keep watch. But should any danger befall you, I will not stay hidden."

Keres felt a surge of affection at her partner's words. Looking at the two children, she asked, "What are your names?"

Again, it was the girl who spoke first. "I am Jinan, and this is my brother, Ghalib."

Keres inclined her head to both of them with a smile, "My name is Keres."

"What's wrong with your eyes?" The boy interjected suddenly.

Raising an eyebrow, Keres asked, "Nothing, why do you ask?" She could see the obvious embarrassment on Jinan's face, which amused her.

Ghalib, however, refused to be cowed. "Normal eyes don't look like that." He seemed surprised when Keres burst out laughing. His cheeks reddened, "What?"

As she finally got herself back under control, she said, "You're very right. As far as I know, I'm the only person with these eyes." She pointed to them, "They don't scare you do they?" When both children shook their heads, she continued, "That's good. They work well. I can see and everything. I even do this." She made a face, rolling her eyes around. Jinan stared in shock, but Ghalib began to laugh uproariously. After a moment, Keres joined and, eventually Jinan did as well.

With a final chuckle, Keres reached back into the pack on her back, pulling out a few strips of dried meat and some bread. "Here. I'm sure you're both hungry too." Before the words had even left her mouth, the children had snatched the food from her hand. They ravenously began stuffing their mouths, being careful to catch and devour even the crumbs. Casting another, dark glance over at the burned pyre, she lifted her eyes to the sky. _What should we do?_

She could feel her partner's confusion. "We are not supposed to get involved with anything in Golrazi. Still . . . I am loath to leave two hatchlings in such conditions."

_They're skin and bones as it is. They'll die if we leave them. Or worse, the Bogurk will capture them and turn them into servants. _

"Is that such a bad fate? They will have food and shelter."

Keres quickly shared one of the images she had pulled from the mind of the guard. _For the Bogurk, servants are barely better than slaves. They are never completely free, and they are completely subjected to the whims of their master. These are children! They're not meant for that sort of life._

Vikonyx mused on the image. "But what can we do?"

They sat in silence for several long minutes before Keres asked cautiously, _Could you fly all three of us?_

"Yes, but what do you plan to do? We cannot keep them. You are nowhere near ready to be a parent, nor will you have the time to care for young children."

_I know! But at the very least, we could find someone in Alagaësia who would be willing to adopt them. There are several farming families who would be glad for the extra hands. Worst case scenario, we could find an orphanage in one of the big cities that could give them food and shelter until they're adopted or old enough to support themselves. _

"And what, pray tell, will you do with them while we are in Du Weldenvarden?" Keres cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought of that. Then Vikonyx continued, "Perhaps you should contact Eragon? There might be a way for him to help us."

Berating herself for not having thought of that before, Keres quickly found the small, enchanted mirror in her pack. All riders were required to carry one in case it was necessary that they communicate with each other over distance. Checking to make sure the kids were still distracted by the food, she murmured a quick spell. The surface of the mirror turned black. A moment later, noise began to issue through the glass, voices that were distant and muffled. For a heartbeat, Keres wondered if she could have botched the spell. "Eragon?"

When no response came she called louder, "Eragon?"

The voices went silent. A moment later, light broke over the surface of the mirror in a blinding wave. Then Eragon's face appeared as he removed the mirror from what was apparently a pouch or pocket. For a moment, he looked startled, "Keres? What's happened? Are you alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine Eragon. My meeting with King Rickhard went smoothly and I delivered your message. But I've encountered . . . an unforeseen problem and I am at a loss as to how to deal with it."

"Well, what is it?"

Keres quickly summed up the situation, including the state of both the town and children, as well as what she had learned from the mind of the Bogurk about slavery within their society. She knew before she even finished her explanation that he would allow her to save the children. Eragon had always had a soft spot for young creatures, be they human or otherwise. He would not force her to leave the children here. It was one of the reasons she had been confident enough to contact him on this matter. However, when she had finished, he drew a hand over his face.

"How is it" he said slowly, "that on your first mission, you get yourself involved in such a . . . such a quagmire?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Is it any surprise given who mentored me?"

His growled response was less ferocious than he probably would have liked. Uttering a curse, he glanced around, then returned his gaze to her. "Stay where you are and do nothing. I will get in contact with Arya and Tarehlak and see what we can come up with. But do not move those children unless it is absolutely necessary. And under no circumstances should you let them see Vikonyx, am I clear?"

"Yes sir." The mirror went dark as she disconnected the spell. A long breath whooshed out of her lungs as she lifted a hand to her face.

From high above, Vikonyx asked, "What now?"

_Now, we wait. _


	51. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Sunlight was already streaming through the open window when Thane awoke the next morning. Groaning, he sat up and stretched. The previous night had been a bizarre combination of pleasant and uncomfortable. His mother had been eager to learn the details of his life since his departure from Ilirea. His father, while more reserved, seemed genuinely interested in what few details of his training Thane was able to divulge. Thaddeus, as expected, had exhibited only veiled disgust and made what comments he could without being openly hostile. Though Thane had enjoyed the chance to catch up with his family, he had to admit that he had been somewhat relieved when the dinner was finally over.

_It felt like . . . I don't know . . . like taking a test or something. They were watching me to see how I acted and I was watching them to see how they acted. _

Evaríncel chuckled, "Did you pass?"

_I think so. I suspect I would know if I'd failed._ Climbing out of bed, he pulled on a shirt and strode to the balcony. The sun was warm on his exposed arms and feet. Looking out over the city, he sighed with contentment. Grand though Thralmurdas was, it could never compare to Ilirea.

"Perhaps in structure and grandeur, but I suspect the mood in Thralmurdras is hundreds of times better. No petty nobles grasping for power and squabbling amongst themselves. No individuals who insist on viewing all other races as barbarians or monsters. And best of all, minimal crime. Unlike this . . . this maze of chaos." Evaríncel's tone was playful, but Thane could detect a faint undercurrent of defensiveness.

_Believe me, I love Thralmurdras as much as you. I just hope that, eventually, we can turn it into a city to rival this. _From where he stood, he could see the entire city laid out beneath him. Surrounding the Rider's Tower was Grey Quarter. It housed the vast mast majority of people in the Ilirea. In keeping with its station as the capitol of Alagaësia, it boasted a wide array of shops, restaurants, inns, and theaters. The manpower necessary to maintain so many establishments was enormous, and most of the citizens living in the city resided in the Grey Quarter. Their small houses were carefully laid out so that the streets ran straight, but the overall effect was still similar to that of a maze. The presence of so many average citizens was part of the reason why Eragon had decided to have the Riders maintain this particular tower, as opposed to one of the other ones around the city. He wanted to show that their allegiance was to the population as a whole, not to the nobles or the rulers. "Riders," he was fond of intoning, "provide justice and protection to all people, regardless of station."

Off to Thane's right lay the Varmia Quarter, named after the noblewoman who had decided that was the "fashionable" place for nobles to live. None of the houses in that direct were smaller than two stories, and many were three or four floors high. There had been an ongoing contest in the city to see which nobles could afford to build the most opulent home in Ilirea. From what Thane had heard, many of the buildings had been destroyed when Eragon and the Varden assaulted the city, so there had little enough of the old buildings to salvage. Some of the nobles had gone so far as to hire dwarves to help build their homes, resulting in every more complex and beautiful designs.

To the north of him, the Market Quarter was already bustling with activity. Every conceivable type of merchandise was available for purchase there, and Thane had carefully avoided it, lest he be suckered into spending some of his remaining coin on some trinket or bauble. Unlike most of the cities in the kingdom, the quality of the shops varied only slightly. The ability to purchase even a stall in the capitol meant that one had to have at least a modicum of wealth. Because of this, the wares that were sold were only those of good make and the shops were brightly decorated to attract as many customers as possible.

Turning his gaze eastward, Thane looked out upon the place. If it had been partly destroyed in the Rider War, as the historian had claimed, there was no sign of it now. Though it had retained its color, the black citadel was now a glorious structure of gleaming spires. Even from this distance, he could make out the massive, stained glass windows that had been erected on the upper floors facing the setting sun. And over the eastern part of the city stood the gigantic stone overhang. As a child, Thane had always feared that it would fall, crushing part of the palace and city beneath its bulk. Now, he could sense the lines of ancient magic that kept the rock upright, keeping it from tumbling down on the buildings below.

He stood in silence, enjoying the quiet of the morning for a few, long moments. He had just decided to head back inside and get properly dressed an ear-splitting roar shattered the morning. Thane jumped back from the railing, crouching as his hand reached for where his sword usually hung.

_What was that for? _He demanded.

For a moment, his partner didn't answer. Then a white blur flashed past the balcony, soaring upward into the heavens. "You have a long way to go if you cannot distinguish my roar from that of other dragons." Evaríncel scolded playfully, letting out a long, trumpeting roar of his own. Following the dragon with his eyes, Thane made out two points of light fast approaching from the west. One shimmered blue-green against the clear sky, the other the other smoldered pale orange. A broad smile broke over Thane's face as his partner rushed out to meet the newcomers. The white dragon circled around them spiraling high into the sky as they neared the city. Within minutes, all three had landed in the courtyard before the tower and a fully dressed Thane emerged from the lowest level to greet them.

Gareth was already swinging off Tourmal's back. Reaching the ground, he flashed a wide smile at Thane, "There was no need to organize welcoming committee."

Thane grinned, extending a hand, "Gareth! It's good to see you. And you as well Rok!"

They both shook his hand before Rok turned an appraising eye to Evaríncel, "Now this is a fine looking beast." Stepping forward, he tapped the scales on Evaríncel's shoulder. "Wasn't sure how a white dragon would turn out, but he's got a good color. Not even colorless, he's actually white." Turning his attention to Thane, he said, "Bet it made for a fine sword, eh?"

"As if anything that Rhunön makes would be less than fine." Thane drew Kveykva and, holding the blade flat on his palms, showed it to both of the newcomers.

Gareth's eyes brightened, "A longsword? Excellent choice. My Vágra is the same type." Though both he and Rok gazed at the sword with interest, neither of them reached out to take it. It was considered the height of disrespect to touch another Rider's blades without permission. That blade had been tailored, and in many cases, made, especially for its wielder. It was personal, an extension of the Rider's body, and, therefore, was viewed as if it were actually part of the physical body. A Rider would no sooner touch another's mind without permission as touch his or her sword without permission.

Once they had finished admiring his blade, Thane sheathed Kveykva and glanced at the bulging saddlebags that Tourmal and Rhyolite wore. "So are those . . . ?"

Rok nodded, "They are. We will present them in the gardens tomorrow. It is quite the coincidence that you should be here now, so many years later."

"If you're not in too big of a hurry to get back to Sunvarda, perhaps you can stay and watch." Gareth suggested. "Maybe it will persuade you to be an egg-guard eventually."

Thane smiled. The thought had crossed his mind, but he hadn't considered the possibility very much. Riders were required to have at least 10 years of experience in Alagaësia before they could ever be considered as egg-guardians. The post was considered to be one of the most important within the ranks of the Dragon Riders. Not only were they responsible for ferrying the eggs across the country, but they were also responsible for caring for the young dragon and rider until Arya and Fírnen could fly out to meet them and escort the hatchlings to Du Weldenvarden. Only two riders at a time were tasked with being egg-guards. At any given time, they carried three eggs, with three more waiting to replace their brethren in an undisclosed location. It was a prestigious position, if a bit monotonous.

Tourmal lowered his turquoise head until he could regard Thane with one brilliant eye. "We are well met Thane. You have grown much since last we spoke."

Inclining his head, Thane answered, "Well met Tourmal. Evaríncel and I have trained hard these last few years. And we are well met as well Rhyolite." The orange dragon snorted once, blinking his acknowledgement.

Gareth stretched, rolling his shoulders until the cracking sound was audible. "Well, let's head inside shall we? There's still time for a good breakfast right? Rookie cooks."

Groaning good-naturedly, Thane turned and led the way back inside. As this wasn't an official Dragon Rider outpost, it was not staffed. Riders were expected to cook their own food, wash their own laundry, and leave the tower clean and well-stocked. The unfortunate thing was, as Dragon Rider training usually took at least fifteen years, it would be quite some time before he would cease to be the "rookie" of the group. Until such time as the next set of Riders came back to Alagaësia, he could expect to be given the most mundane and menial of tasks by his comrades. As Gareth and Rok began to get settled in, he entered the small kitchen and quickly threw together a meal of bacon, eggs, and potatoes.

The dining area was situated such that the dragon caves had access. Thus, they ate under the watchful gaze of all three dragons. Thane waited until he felt that the newcomers had eaten a decent amount before asking, "You guys must have spent the night pretty close to the city to have gotten here so early. Why didn't you just finish the trip?"

Gareth shook his head, "Nah, we flew through the night. Rhyolite is a pretty good judge of the weather and he thinks there's gonna be a good sized storm later this afternoon. We figured it wasn't worth risking getting caught in anything too nasty."

"We will have to hunt before then." Tourmal put in, his unfamiliar voice echoing in Thane's mind. "Evaríncel, you are welcome to accompany us."

The white dragon dipped his head. "I might at that." Turning his attention to the riders, Evaríncel queried, "Have any eggs hatched recently?"

Downing a swig of his drink, Rok answered. "We had no luck with the urgals, but before that, a purple dragon hatched for a dwarf girl named Lethine. She is of Dûrgrimst Feldûnost. Her family was well pleased, as there has never been a dwarf rider from their clan." He shook his head in apparent amazement. "It never fails to amaze me . . . the changes that have taken place in our race since the Rider War. Before it, our clans wanted nothing to do with the Dragon Riders. And even after King Orik accepted Eragon's offer to include us in the order, there was much resistance amongst our people. I was only the second dwarf rider, born nearly 10 years after the pact was amended, and even I was somewhat shunned when Rhyolite hatched for me. Now, as knurlan begin to see what prosperity and peace the Riders can provide, it has become a source of pride for a clan to have a member who is a Dragon Rider. All clans gather their young when the eggs are presented. Those clans which have produced a Rider, strive to produce a second, and therefore raise themselves above their rivals. Those clans who have yet to produce a Rider desperately try to catch up. It is madness I tell you. But it is a madness that works to our advantage." He added with a grin."

"Were you able to replace it before you got here?" Thane asked, swallowing a bite of food.

Gareth nodded. "Arya brought a replacement when she came to pick up Lethine and Dalgon. That's what the new dragon was named, by the way."

With a thrill of excitement, Thane leaned forward in his seat, "May we see them?"

Gareth shrugged, "I don't see why not. Just be careful with them. You be hard pressed to injure them, but we don't want to jostle the eggs too much. It's not good for the hatchlings."

Rok rose from his seat. "I'll get them out for you. Not that we don't trust you, but we get attached to them, ya know? Sometimes, we can feel the dragons inside, sense their moods and emotions. It is a wonderful experience and one that makes watching them hatch all the more rewarding."

Pushing himself off of his stood, the dwarf dropped to the ground. He led the way to the corner with short, quick steps, and muttered a spell to open the satchel which held the three eggs. With gentle hands, he shifted the bag, pulling its lip down until the three eggs sat in the center of a pool of cloth. The one on the right was dark brown, the color of good earth. The center egg was beige, while the one on the left was a deep color that Thane could only compare with plums.

Thane gently touched the plum-colored egg, a smile breaking over his face as he remembered the white egg that Evaríncel had emerged from. He had been so small.

"But I am small no longer_._" The dragon murmured in his head.

Thane smiled, glancing up at his partner. No, small was not a word he would attribute to his partner anymore. The dragon was now nearly eight feet at the shoulder. His head was nearly as long as Thane's arm. His body was heavily muscled and his wings were strong. Returning his gaze to the egg, Thane spoke. _It has a beautiful color._

Evaríncel lowered his head to sniff at the egg before a faint hum rumbled in his chest. "This is the egg that Fyrngala gave to the riders." Thane's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He recognized the name, though he had only seen the dragon that bore it once. She was a wild dragon who lived somewhere to the South of Vrenbana. Thane had been present when the red dragon had come to present her egg to the Riders. It was tradition that all available dragons and their riders be on hand to thank a female dragon who gave one of her eggs to their order. Thus far, 11 eggs had been entrusted to the riders by wild mothers. It was the only one she had entrusted to them thus far. Though all dragons were beautiful, Thane had thought the young female was exceptionally so. She had a delicately carved head and neck and a long, slender frame. The dragon bobbed his head, "It was a good pairing. The sire of this egg is Hvasstenr. He is strong and she is clever."

Closing the chest, Thane glanced up at his dragon, speaking both aloud and with his mind. "Why does that matter? I know that parentage is no guarantee of color or size or ability."

"This is true." The white dragon growled, "However, much like humans, we do inherit some traits from our parents. Body type, whether a dragon will be thick and muscular or slender and graceful, can be inherited. And though skill in flight or fire breathing or fighting cannot be inherited, a dragon can inherit related qualities. An extra muscle, flexible joint, or even larger-than-average wings can be passed down through generations. Both of my parents were heavy and muscled, so it was unlikely that I should end up any differently. However, my mother, Terramora, was green and my father, Eldakin, was blue. Color is one of the few random things about dragon breeding."

"Did you have any white kin?"

"Mmmm" The dragon nodded, "My father was half-brother to Umaroth, the dragon bonded with Vrael, who was white. Beyond that, I do not know."

Thane was about to comment on that new piece of information when he was interrupted. Jumping, he swore as a sensation of cold manifested against his skin. Beside him, he saw Rok start. For a moment, Thane was confused. But as he stuck his hand into his pocket, attempting to discover the source of the cold, he felt his fingers come into contact with the enchanted mirror he carried. Only then did he remember that the sensation had been woven into the spells on the mirror so that no rider could inadvertently miss a message. The cold that settled in his stomach had nothing to do with the mirror. Though all riders were expected to carry a mirror with them, it was rarely necessary to contact more than one at a time.

As he fished the mirror out of his pocket, out of the corner of his eye, he watched Rok do the same as Gareth rushed into the room, his mirror already in hand. Eragon's face stared up out of the polished surface. The Head Rider looked as calm and collected as ever. However, if it had been necessary to contact all of the Riders, as Thane suspected was the case, then there was more than a little cause for alarm. Eragon waited a few more moments, assumedly until the others he had contacted were looking at their mirrors, and then began to speak.

"Brothers and sisters, my apologies for interrupting you on such short notice. But we have an incident which must be handled. An extremely dangerous individual has been sighted near Orthiad, in the Beor Mountains. Some of you might know her as The Sorceress, or else Kaldagûr, or Blödhseithr. For those of you who do not know her, she is a sorceress and magic-user of great strength and skill. Each of the races has been trying for years to bring her to bay, with no success. She vanished nearly 15 years ago, and we had hoped that, perhaps, it would be the last we saw of her. But our latest reports indicate that she may have abducted a dwarf from one of the nearby cities. Nortavog, Ralihirn, and Bodrin, you three are to return to your respective posts immediately. Until the situation is resolved, you three will be responsible for your entire districts. Don't overexert yourself, but if anything demands your attention, handle it. Logrundag, you will go to Surda and take up residence in Aberon. Should she make any move toward the border, we will send reinforcements to back you up. Gareth and Rok, you may continue with your plans for tomorrow, but be on alert for anything suspicious. Everyone else, you are to search the mountains. If she can be found, I want us to find her."

To Thane's surprise, Ralihirn's voice sounded through the mirror, though it was muffled and distant. "Is such urgency truly necessary? She is one woman, and the mountains, I am told, are difficult to traverse. Her movements should be relatively slow."

Eragon's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed slightly. "That would be true for most individuals. However, her skill with magic is prodigious. We cannot assume that she is limited by the same factors most would be hindered by. However, the need for haste is not simply because I fear she might slip away again." He shifted slightly, "The dwarves are, even now, massing search parties to scour the mountains for her. I have spoken to King Orik and urged caution. He agrees, but even so, he has not been able to stop several, smaller bands of dwarves from setting out on the hunt."

Rok swore and the sound was so loud that Thane jumped. He had momentarily forgotten that they were all in the same room. The mirrors were made so that only the Rider to whom they were attached could see and hear in them. Thus, the mirrors that Gareth and Rok held were silent for Thane. Tugging his beard, Rok growled, "Kaldagûr was skilled when last we sought her. I shudder to think what powers she might have amassed since then. Unless they have taken a great many spellcasters with them, they will be dead long before they even catch sight of her."

Eragon nodded, "That is my fear as well. And that is why it is imperative that we find her first. Should any of you come into contact with her, you may engage if necessary, but do so only defensively. Do not attempt to overcome her until backup has arrived." Hesitating, he added, "This is an extremely dangerous foe. I urge caution rom all of you. Saphira and I wish you luck. Good hunting." A moment later, the surface of the mirror went blank and Thane saw only his reflection staring back at him.

Rok swore again and Thane looked up to see both of the senior riders looking grave. The dwarf looked up, "This bodes ill for us. Haste and danger do not make a good combination."

"Well, I think that he was not completely forthcoming with us about his reasons for wanting her found quickly." Gareth said seriously. "We need to get this under control before she arrives."

"She?" Thane looked from once face to the other. Rok clearly understood to whom Gareth was referring. "Who are we talking about?"

Raising an eyebrow, Rok growled, "You mean you don't know?"

"Eragon went to great lengths to make sure she was accepted Rok." Gareth said, "It makes sense that he wouldn't have told the ones who didn't already know. No reason to make them fear her."

"Who?!" Thane asked again, irritation making his voice sharper than he would have liked.

"The white-haired girl . . . Keres . . . She is the daughter of Kaldagûr. The dwarves were hunting her mother when we captured her. She escaped and, in trying to get out of the city, stumbled across the dragon eggs that we had hidden. That is when the black dragon, Vikonyx, hatched for her."

"And her mother, why were you hunting her?"

This time it was Gareth who answered. "The Sorceress is responsible for the disappearance of several members of every race, save the dragons. She practices magic of a sort that ought be left alone."

Thank blinked, "That's why the elves were so averse to her, and the dwarves as well?"

Gareth nodded. "Eragon likely wants to have this resolved before Keres arrives. It could turn into a nightmare if she finds out."

"Why?" Evaríncel asked. "What is it that he fears?"

Rok shrugged, "Many in our order have harbored suspicions about her since she joined. And, as you already noted, many in Vrenbana treated her poorly because of her mother's actions. It is not entirely inconceivable that she might defect."

"Keres wouldn't do that!" Thane protested. "I don't know her well, but I know she loves the Dragon Riders. She wouldn't turn on us!"

Rok held up a hand, "Peace Thane. For that exact reason, I believe that it is more likely Eragon fears that she might go after her mother alone. After all, it cannot be easy to be judged by the actions of your parents, rather than by your own merit. Were I in her position, I would want retribution. Also, she is young, and young people are not known for making the best decisions. No offense." He added quickly.

"In any event," Gareth interjected, "you need to go and get ready to depart. It will be a long flight to the mountains."

"Indeed." Evaríncel growled. "I will go to hunt now while you prepare. I will return within the hour and you must be ready to depart then."

Thane acknowledged his partner with a flicker of thought. _I will be. _Looking at Rok and Gareth, he said, "I'll have to take the food from the pantry. There isn't time to go and purchase it. Will you be alright?"

Gareth waved him off. "We have plenty of time. Hurry, go."

Without another word, Thane dashed up the stairs, hurrying to his room so that he could prepare his things for travel.


	52. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

The verdant forest of Du Weldenvarden stretched for miles in every direction. Keres marveled at the sheer size of it as the trees sped past beneath them. From her perch on Vikonyx's shoulders, she craned her neck, straining to see as far as she could. _It's enormous! _After what had proved to be a trying evening, and an even worse morning, she was delighted to finally have something enjoyable happen. She had spent the previous evening in sporadic contact with Eragon, answering questions and listening to updates. It had been several hours before he had finally decided on a course of action. She would be allowed to fly the children out of Golrazi, but only as far as Ceunon. Once there, she had booked them passage to Dras Leona with a trading caravan. Of course, Eragon had stipulated that she must come up with the funds on her own. It had cost her one of her favorite bracelets, which pained her, but she hadn't argued. As Eragon had pointed out, sometimes doing the right thing required sacrifices.

Moreover, as she looked back on the conversation, she had realized that it was unlike most of the conversations he had with his subordinates. He had been more relaxed, more willing to poke fun at her, and more openly amused at her irritation. In almost every aspect, it resembled the interactions between fathers and daughters that she had seen during her time in Vrenbana. The realization had sent a tingle of warmth through her. She had feared that, perhaps, Eragon had been being over-dramatic in his declaration before her departure. Now, it seemed that he had spoken truly, and intended to treat her accordingly.

After finishing her conversation with Eragon, she had then spent the next hour being berated by Arlentor. Upon learning of the situation, he had proceeded to explain to Keres exactly how stupid her decision had been as well as listing of several dozen other courses of action that she could have taken. However, all his discontent had melted away when Jinan spotted him and shrieked "AWW A KITTY CAT!" Keres and Vikonyx had been hard pressed to restrain their mirth as the young girl had picked Arlentor up and begun to pet him. His half-hearted growls went unnoticed, and Keres knew the werecat had not the heart to scratch the child.

By far, the most difficult part of the night had been convincing the children that Vikonyx was not going to eat them. Ghalib had been the first to come around, and only after Keres obliquely suggested that he was afraid of the dragon. Only then had he stepped forward and placed a trembling hand on Vikonyx's nose. Once they were on her back, however, the children had been ecstatic. Seeing the unbridled joy on their faces brought Keres memories of her first flight with Vikonyx.

They had been partners for almost a year before Keres had been allowed to ride her dragon. She remembered how delighted Vikonyx had been. The black dragon could barely stop wiggling long enough for Keres to get strapped into the saddle. Vikonyx had picked Keres up quite a few times before their first ride, carrying the girl in her claws. As it was rather uncomfortable for the young girl, Vikonyx had usually only done it when she intended to dunk her rider in the lake. She would drop Keres into the water and then plunge in after her, submerging to avoid her rider's fury. But that first ride. Keres had nearly screamed as she watched the ground fall away beneath them at a frightful pace. But once Vikonyx had leveled out . . . Keres sighed, remembering the rush of awestruck wonder that had filled her. She had felt free. The earth no longer had any claim to her. The cares of the world didn't matter in the sky. All that mattered was the air beneath their wings, the sun on their skin, and the crisp, clean smell of the sky.

The children had not stopped gaping from the moment they left the ground to the moment they had touched down again. It had been strange. Keres had always thought that her return to Alagaësia would be momentous event for her. Instead, it had been as simple as stepping across a line. They had landed well within sight of the city. Keres wanted to reinforce the fact that these children were under her protection. Eragon and Arya trusted these traders, but that did not necessarily mean that Keres did. It had, therefore, relieved her immensely when Arlentor offered to accompany the children to Sunvarda. Vikonyx had resisted the urge to tease the werecat, lest he should rescind his offer. So the dragon and rider had left the children and Arlentor in the care of the caravan leader before turning east toward Du Weldenvarden.

The forest was grander than it had been in Eragon's memories. The trees were taller and their leaves a deeper shade of green. Leafy branches reached eagerly up toward the sunlight as the forest stood in the thrall of spring. The sun was descending toward the western horizon, but had not dropped so far as to paint the sky with its usual repertoire of colors. They had stopped only once. Vikonyx had landed and they had walked together past the ancient barrier that shielded the realm of the elves. Once past it, Keres had again taken up her seat in the saddle and Vikonyx had winged her way toward Ellisméra as quickly as she could.

Now, as they neared the elf capitol, Vikonyx slowed her headlong rush. Keres felt her stomach knot as the drew in a deep breath. This was the part she had been dreading: actually interacting with the elves. Those that lived in Vrenbana had, for the most part, come to respect and even like her. However, it had taken years to convince them that she was not the monster they feared. Those in the great forest had never even met her, only heard of her. They would likely be every bit as hostile as their kin in Vrenbana had been when she first arrived. At the thought, she groaned inwardly. It was not an experience that she was eager to repeat.

Backflapping to decrease her speed, Vikonyx hung in the sky like a great, black raven. Reaching out with her mind, as Eragon had taught her, Keres cried "Gilderien-elda, I am Keres, daughter of Eragon Shadeslayer, and this is my dragon, Vikonyx, daughter of Saabarine. I have come, at the completion of my mission, to meet with Arya Dröttning. Will you allow us to pass?"

After a few moments, she felt a response. The mind that touched her felt vast and foreign. Centuries of memories swirled within it, painting the consciousness with a melancholic hue. Then a slow voice spoke. "Keres White-Eyes, I have heard of you, though I have never seen your face. Many of my kin were . . . concerned when we learned that you had been selected as a rider. I was among their number." Keres stiffened at the words and her hand dropped to Skraván's hilt. The voice made a faint noise of amusement. "There is no need for that, young rider. I trust the dragon, Vikonyx. If she thought you worthy to be a rider, then who am I to say otherwise? Also, my grandson, Ralihirn, speaks very highly of you. Thus, I now have no quarrel with you. You both may pass."

Letting out a long breath, Keres inclined her head, "Thank you, Gilderien-elda." She relaxed into her saddle, blowing out a long breath as she felt Vikonyx shift beneath her. The black dragon rolled a single eye in her direction, "Well that was interesting."

Keres smiled. _I'm glad he let us pass. I don't know what we'd have done if he had denied us entry. _

"He wouldn't have dared." Vikonyx said confidently. "That would have created some serious problems for Arya-elda. Whatever their feelings toward us, they could not have refused a Dragon Rider entry to their city. Especially not when your appearance before Arya was requested by Eragon himself."

Keres did not respond, but she felt sure that her partner sensed her disbelief at the statement. It had been Arya who had sent Keres and Vikonyx directly to Vrenbana upon their bonding, ignoring the traditional journey for new dragons and riders. In later years, Eragon had said that Arya did this for their safety, being unwilling to put Keres near so many elves who might have held a grudge against her. However, Keres was not so certain. She had noted the faint expressions that colored the she-elf's eyes when Eragon spoke of his apprentice. Arya was no different than the other elves who hated her, excepting the fact that she was slightly better at concealing her dislike. Still, it would not do to dwell on old hurts. Arya was a rider, and a senior rider at that. Keres had to respect and defer to her, regardless of personal feelings.

They had only been flying for a few more minutes before a resounding roar echoed over the forest. A glistening, green mountain seemed to rise up out of the canopy, resolving itself into the massive form of Fírnen. On his back sat Arya, resplendent in a tunic of midnight blue. Vikonyx rushed to meet her larger brethren and the two dragons circled each other for a few moments. Then, Fírnen banked left, making for a large clearing. Vikonyx followed him, flapping hard to make up for the air currents displaced by the larger dragon's wings. The trees groaned and shook as both dragons descended. Keres gripped the neck spike in front of her, steadying herself as Vikonyx touched down, folding her wings.

Keres unstrapped her legs and slid down her dragon's side. The grass was soft and spongy beneath her boots as she landed. Looking up, she saw Arya striding toward her. Keres had been only a child when she had last seen the elf-queen. At that time, she remembered being awed by the beauty and grace of the matriarch. Now, with the years of experience behind her, Keres found herself even more impressed. She could see the tell-tale marks of the warrior. The calloused hands, the lithe, light stride, even the tension in the proud shoulders, everything about this woman spoke of danger. _Like a poisonous flower._ Keres thought to herself. _Beautiful and terrible._ The same, she realized, could be said for the Queen's partner. The green dragon's strides shook the ground as he walked by his Rider's side. He glistened like a green hill, a living emerald statue.

When Arya halted a few paces away, Keres twisted her hand over her sternum, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttning."

The green eyes narrowed as she responded, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr, Keres White-Eyes. Welcome to Du Weldenvarden."

Keres was startled that the elf would forestall the final line of the traditional elven greeting. Nonetheless, she turned her attention to the green dragon, which towered over both her and Vikonyx. "We are well met, Master Fírnen."

The massive head lowered and she found herself staring into one, gigantic emerald eye. A strange mind touched her own and the words that it spoke were rumbling and musical, "It is good to finally meet you, Keres, and you as well, Vikonyx. Your masters have told us much of you."

"They have told us much of you, as well." Vikonyx responded. "It is an honor to meet one of the elder dragons."

Fírnen chuckled. "I am only elder by the standards of this order. Were we part of the Riders of old, I would barely be considered middle-aged." He took a deep breath, tasting the air. Snorting, he buffeted Keres with hot air before continuing. "We were told that you were something other than human and elf, but I was not certain that the rumor was true. However, I must agree that you do not smell like any creature I have yet encountered."

Keres shrugged, "I have always thought of myself as something akin to what Eragon is. He is the only living being that has ever been comparable."

"And he has adopted you as his daughter." This time it was Arya who spoke. The words were soft and clipped, but devoid of any emotion. Her tone neither appeared to endorse the decision, nor condemn it.

Keres nodded, "I always thought of him as a father, even if I did not apply the title to him. He and Saphira raised me, raised us. I am, however, honored that he saw fit to make his decision known."

Arya studied her for a long moment, then, to Keres' surprise, the she-elf said, "Eragon has told me of your duel with him. To say that his account surprised me would be an understatement. He is one of the most accomplished swordsmen alive. To think that a youngling like yourself could have provided him with a challenge is . . . difficult to believe. If you are amenable, I would like to spar with you myself."

Vikonyx's surprise was no less than her rider's. Keres' eyes narrowed as she tried to determine if there was a hidden meaning behind the request. When she could find none, she inclined her head, "I would be honored Arya-elda. Though I must say, I am not in the same shape that I was in when Eragon and I fought. There was not much time to work out during my mission."

Arya nodded, "That is quite understandable. We need not spar today. Perhaps tomorrow or the day after? When you have recovered. And I brought refreshments for us. I did not think you would be ready to fight so soon after the completion of your journey. While we dine, you may relay the details of your quest to me."

Five minutes later, they were sitting in the shade of a nearby try. Arya had brought with her some fruits and cheeses, along with a bottle of fine, elvish wine. The she-elf listened intently as Keres spoke. The younger rider had kept a journal of her observations and findings that she now used to ensure that she didn't leave anything out. Vikonyx occasionally added a comment to round out the testimony, but, for the most part, the black dragon was quiet.

When she had finished, she presented Arya with the maps she had made. After looking them over, the elf-queen said, "You have done well. I questioned the wisdom of tasking you with this mission, but no other Dragon Rider could have done better. You should be proud."

Keres smiled at the praise. "I'm glad I met your expectations. I look forward to building my reputation amongst your people."

Arya's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. Then she responded, "We have decided to station you in Sunvarda, our outpost near Dras Leona. At present, there are three pairs of dragons and riders stationed there. Tarehlak, whom you will know as the first dwarf Rider, is there with his partner Gintare. There is also Nortavog, a female urgal, and her partner, Stenfeon. More recently, Thane and Evaríncel were stationed there. I am told you are familiar with them."

Keres nodded. She remembered the young man and his dragon from their time in Vrenbana. Evaríncel was a white dragon, and therefore difficult to miss. But Keres remembered his demeanor most. He had been the most proper dragon she had ever met. Thane had been the son of current human king, but he had not been what she expected either. He had been warm, friendly, and surprisingly humble. Though she hadn't gotten the chance to know him, she suspected that she would like him.

"Nor does it hurt that you find him attractive." Vikonyx put in.

_No. _Keres admitted with a small smile. _It doesn't. _To Arya, she said, "We will leave tomorrow morning then, if it pleases you. Vikonyx deserves at least one night to rest."

A faint frown crossed the elf-queen's face. "You need not leave so soon. You have had a long and difficult journey. Also, you were unable to experience the joys of our city during your training. I should like to make up for that."

Something about the statement didn't sit right with Keres, but she brushed it aside. Suspicion was part of her nature, but sometimes, Eragon had told her, she could be overly critical. "Thank you for your generous offer. However, Vikonyx and I would like to integrate ourselves into our new station as soon as possible. We will return here later this year for the Agaetí Blödhren. Perhaps then we can take you up on your offer."

For a moment, there was silence. "Fírnen and I would be honored to have you join us for the celebration." She said finally.

Rising to her feet, Keres brushed a few stray blades of grass from her tunic. "With your leave, Arya-elda and Fírnen-elda, we will retire to the Stone of Broken Eggs."

"Already?" Arya raised an eyebrow, "The day is not yet old. Surely you would at least like to visit the Minoa Tree?"

A sudden gust of wind from Vikonyx rustled the grass. In Keres' mind, the dragon murmured. "Something is not right."

Keres' eyes flicked unconsciously toward her partner. _You sense it too?_

"She has more than satisfied the demands of courtesy. Her scent indicates that she is anxious. And see how her eyes move? She is every bit as ready to end this meeting as you, yet she continues to talk."

_It's almost as if she were trying to . . ._ The thought trailed off as a series of images and emotions flashed through her mind. Suspicion hardened into cold certainty. Speaking slowly, she said, "So tell me, Arya-elda, what misfortune has fallen that you should attempt to stall me here?" As she finished, she lifted her gaze to stare at the elf.

There was a flicker of . . . something, in Arya's eyes, but her face remained passive. "I don't understand your meaning."

Loosing a bark of mirthless laughter, Keres felt her lips begin to curl in disgust. "Do not lie to me, Arya _Dröttning_." She put as much emphasis and derision as she could into the final word. "It is unbecoming of you. Well do I know of your feelings toward me. Were you not a Dragon Rider, I would return your dislike and mistrust in equal measure. However, fate has seen fit to cast those who despise me as my superiors. Thus, I must show respect to those who have shown me none." Rising to her feet so that she towered over the seated elf, Keres continued. "You would no sooner sit down for a chat with me than you would hack a limb from the Minoa Tree, were it not absolutely necessary. So I ask you again, Arya-elda, what has gone wrong?"

The she-elf regarded the young girl for a long moment. Then she crossed her arms across her chest. "A situation has arisen that requires the attention of our order. Eragon has already dispatched a large number of our men to handle it. However, it was his wish that you not involve yourself. You are so newly finished with your mission, it would not do to tire you overmuch."

"She's lying." Vikonyx murmured in Keres' mind.

_That much is obvious. _Keres responded, then she amended her statement. _Well, as much as elves ever lie. It's a half-truth at best. The thing is, I can only think of one or two reasons why Eragon would keep me from such a situation and neither of them has anything to do with my overexerting myself. _She could feel her partner studying her emotions and realized that the black dragon must have come to much the same conclusion that she had. Already, the suspicion was causing her heart to beat faster. Turning her attention back to Arya, Keres spoke as calmly and smoothly as she could manage. "It's my mother . . . isn't it?"

For a split second, she had the satisfaction of seeing surprise flit across the face of an elf. Then it was gone just as quickly. Still, to her credit, Arya did not lie. She nodded, her face strangely blank.

"I thought as much." Turning on heel, Keres began to stride back toward Vikonyx.

"You are not to join the search." The words were as much a command as a statement.

Keres was already at her dragon's side, checking to ensure the straps had not loosened. "That is fine. For I do not intend on _searching _for her."

"You may not leave." She could hear an edge of anger in Arya's voice now.

"Careful" Vikonyx murmured in her mind as Keres put a foot on her elbow and prepared to climb into the saddle.

Without pausing to glance back at the elf, Keres spoke loudly and clearly. "Eka weohnata. I will."

It happened just as Keres was lifting her leg, preparing to pull herself up into the saddle using the spines on Vikonyx's back. Arya barked, "Letta."

The spell was so unexpected, that, for a moment, Keres didn't know how to respond. She froze, feeling as if bands were wrapped around every inch of her frame, holding her in place. Outrage filled her as her eyes widened. _She cast a spell on me! _Vikonyx was equally furious. Her lips pulled back and she snarled, flaring her wings and swinging her head toward the she-elf. Fírnen responded with a growl of his own, though its intensity was somewhat less than Keres would have anticipated.

Muttering a quick spell to try and free herself, Keres marshalled her thoughts and launched her consciousness at the elf-queen's. Arya seemed surprised by the mental assault and it took a half-second for her to respond, during which time Keres sought to drive herself as far into the elf's mind as possible. The haunting music of Arya's mind echoed in Keres ears as they dueled with their thoughts. But, more profoundly, Keres felt the unadulterated dislike of her that colored the elf's thoughts. Arya struck back at her, pushing Keres back and retaking what little ground her hesitation had cost her. In spite of the mental assault, Keres could make no headway in freeing herself. _Vikonyx help me!_

She felt the touch of her partner's mind and they melded their identities. A surge of strength went through Keres and she redoubled her efforts to overcome the spell Arya had placed on her. Meanwhile, Vikonyx struck out at the elf's mind. Ordinarily, Vikonyx would have picked Keres up and flown away with her. If they got far enough, Arya would have had to end the spell. However, with Keres frozen precariously on the dragon's side, Vikonyx could not risk the chance that her rider might fall off. Instead, Keres felt her dragon rumble as she began to call up the fire from her belly. Almost instantly, a ripping, grating roar broke over the clearing as Fírnen placed a massive claw in front of his rider, glaring at the smaller dragon.

Outrage and desperation mingled in her chest, threatening to cut off her air. It was not fair. This was not fair. Arya knew it and Eragon knew it, and yet they were trying to force her to remain behind. Why? Keres didn't understand. She could feel Vikonyx's concern as her confused emotions roiled through their connection, but she hadn't the strength to suppress them. And still the dislike that radiated from the elf's mind was burned her consciousness like ice. But what was worse, what was far worse, was the second emotion that had begun to seep through their mental contact: fear. Arya was afraid of her. Afraid of what she might do. Just as Eragon had been afraid. Just as the other elves and the dwarves had been afraid. Why? Why did they always fear her? What was it about her that convinced them that she was a threat? Why? WHY? Her vision blurred and, for a wild moment, she thought Arya had cast yet another spell. Then she realized that no, it was her eyes. They were hot and stung. It took another few seconds before Keres realized that she was crying.

Try as she might, she couldn't free herself from the spell Arya had laid on her. She battered at the she-elf's consciousness, struggling to free herself. Finally, with both her mind and her voice, Keres screamed, "I DESERVE THIS! I DESEVRE THE CHANCE TO KILL HER!" The declaration seemed to take Arya aback. Vikonyx was likewise startled and ceased her efforts to attack the older rider. Keres continued thrashing against her invisible bonds. "I DESERVE REVENGE FOR WHAT SHE DID TO ME!" Her voice broke and she tasted blood as the volume of her screams dropped. "You hate me. You, the elves, the dwarves, and even the urgals hate me because of her! I did nothing! My only crime was being born! And still you hate me!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks now as she vented her fury and frustration. "Everything I suffered at the hands of people like you . . . it was her fault! No one deserves the chance to kill her more than me! No one!"

She could feel Vikonyx's distress radiating through their link. Melded as their minds were, her feelings coursed through the dragon's mind like a flood. Her partner let out a long breath, lowering her head so that it was on the same level as her rider's. "Oh Keres"

"I don't understand." Keres sounded as if she were pleading now, and she hated herself for it. "You do not blame Eragon for what Selena did. You told him not to worry about it. I saw the memory! So why do you blame me? Why is he innocent, while I am guilty? I don't understand. All you elves look down your noses at me. You sneer and glare and murmur behind my back. You look at me like I'm some abomination. But I'm not! I'm a person. I'm a Dragon Rider!" Her voice rose slightly and blood flecked her lips. "And you have no right to judge me! You know nothing about me! Nothing!"

Arya just looked stunned and, if it were possible, so did Fírnen. The elf-queen stood, her entire body rigid, staring at Keres. The invisible bands around Keres' limbs loosened and she stumbled and fell. She was so upset that she did not even manage to cast a spell to keep her from hitting the ground. Still, the grass was soft and the impact was not hard. She coughed, feeling pain flare in her throat and blood spattered the ground in front of her. Keres mumbled a spell to heal her throat and shuddered as the tissue itched and crawled. As she lifted her head, she saw a hand extended toward her. Arya stood just in front of her, a look of profound sadness on her face.

"I am diminished, Keres-vadhr." She said softly. "We are all diminished, all of us elves." When Keres took the offered hand, Arya pulled her to her feet. "We, who claim to love children of all races, unleashed our ire on you. You have done us no wrong, no harm. Eragon has long claimed that you are not deserving of the hatred we bear you. Indeed, several of my subjects in Vrenbana have reported that you were noble and hard-working. But I ignored them. I could not forget the crimes your mother committed against us. I was blind, where I should have seen."

She shook her head, "I should know better than any, save Eragon, that the sins of the parents cannot be blamed on the child. Both he and Murtagh were sons of The Black Hand. Murtagh was even the son of Morzan. Yet they were both essential to overthrowing Galbatorix. One would think that my age would make me more prudent, not less." Arya sighed. Then, in the Ancient Language, she said, "I cry your pardon, Keres-vadhr."

Of all the things Keres had expected, this was not one of them. Her anger at the elf-woman vanished. She was left with nothing but sorrow and exhaustion. Her outburst seemed to have stripped the energy from her body. For a few heartbeats, she could only stare at Arya, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Then, embarrassment overcame her and she looked away, feeling her cheeks and ears burn. "It is nothing, Arya-elda." She mumbled, joining the elf in her native tongue. "I should not have shouted. I am sorry."

She felt a hot breath ruffle her hair as Vikonyx leaned down to nudge her shoulder. There were no words, just an overwhelming sensation of affection that passed between them. Keres shifted, pressing against the armored nose as the green dragon stretched his head forward. For a moment, Keres stiffened, but she relaxed as Fírnen touched his nose to her forehead. "There is much anger in your heart, wild one, some of it justified, some it not. Embrace it all, let it flow through you, and then let it go. Anger is a poison."

Keres let out a bark of laughter, "When you say it like that it sounds easy. But what do you when that poison is constantly being pumped into you?"

He snorted, blasting her with a wave of air that smelled like burnt-meat. "Then, hatchling, you become immune."

Keres looked over to see Arya staring off into the distance. Her expression had remained troubled, though whether it was from their conversation, or from her concern over the plight of the other Riders, Keres couldn't be sure. Much to the young girl's surprise, she felt the strong urge to comfort the she-elf. Choosing her words carefully, she said, "Eragon knows her strength. He would not send a force that would be unequal to the task of killing her."

Arya's eyes returned to the younger rider. Then, a strange expression settled over her features, "We are trying our best not to kill her."

"Do you honestly think she'll come without a fight?" Keres raised an eyebrow skeptically. "From what little I remember of her, she wasn't the type to surrender. She would die first."

"But she has never faced magicians as powerful as our Riders." Arya said firmly.

"Nor have they ever faced magicians as powerful as her. Training bouts are one thing. Actually fighting another magic-user, one who has no qualms about killing his or her opponent, that is something else entirely." Keres protested.

Arya's expression darkened for a moment and she stared, hard, into Keres eyes. The gaze was so intense and searching that the younger rider almost looked away. But she forced herself to hold her ground, looking back into the elf-queen's intense eyes. Finally, Arya sighed. "Eragon will be most displeased with me." She said, matter-of-factly.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to tell you that the Sorceress was last spotted near Orthiad. I'll also tell you that we have staked out all of the hideouts you revealed when you joined and she hasn't been spotted at any of them. It's likely that she has created new posts from which to work. Eragon has dispatched nearly every Rider in the country. Only one has been left per station, excluding here, where I was to remain to lead my people and keep you from joining the hunt."

Keres' eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously, "And you're telling me this because . . ."

"Because you are right. She won't hesitate to kill any of our Riders. Any of them . . . except you. I've faced her before. She's not the motherly type. If Eragon's theory is true, you were designed to be her greatest weapon ever. There's a chance she might still want to reclaim you. And that hesitation, that moment of doubt, might mean the difference between life and death for our brethren." Arya's face grew stern. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for us, for the Riders."

Silence fell between them as Keres struggled to digest what she had just heard. Arya had a point. A horrible, terrifying point, but a valid one. Curling her fingers into a fist, Keres let out a long breath. Finally, she said, "I have a family now. I have brothers. I have sisters. I even have a father." Lifting her eyes to meet those of the elf, Keres finished, "She will not take that from me."


	53. Bonus Chapter 1: Vikonyx

**Bonus Chapter**

**Vikonyx**

The hot air off the scorch-sand Hadarac Desert warmed Vikonyx's wings as she sped southward. The warmth suffused her lithe frame, drawn in by the darkness of her scales. This was a good place to fly. She felt that she could have soared over the vast expanse of sand for days and not grown tired of the sensation. Ordinarily, she would have announced her happiness to the world with a trumpeting roar, but she refrained from doing so. For on her back, sister of her heart and soul Keres had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep. The girl had emerged from her room this morning hollowed eyed and sullen. Through their connection, Vikonyx had felt her rider's discontent, and knew that the young woman had slept little, if at all.

Vikonyx had to stifle a growl as she reflected on her partner's situation. They had both been aware that a conflict with the Keres-mother sorceress was a possibility, but to have it occur so soon . . . And sister of her heart and soul Keres had taken it worse than expected. The emotions Vikonyx had felt through their connection had been mixed and overpowering. There had been dread, excitement, fear, uncertainty, and, above all else, a seething, unrelenting anger.

Few people realized exactly how much the discrimination had hurt Keres. Not even elf-body, human-mind Eragon had truly known, and he knew the girl better than any, save the black dragon herself. Vikonyx knew only because her heart-sister could not hide her emotions from their bond. The quick-tongue elves of valley-home Vrenbana had only recently begun to accept the young girl. For many years, Keres had been subjected to sneers and whispers and stony looks. Vikonyx's partner had experienced much the same from the long-beard dwarves. But Vikonyx was proud of her heart-sister. In spite of the pain she felt at their initial rejection, she had persevered. Eventually, no one had been able to ignore her obvious skill and magnetic personality.

Sister of her heart and soul Keres was intelligent, clever, passionate, and honest. It was true that her honesty was often mistaken for rudeness or coldness, but it was not intended as such. That honesty was one of the traits that Vikonyx prized most about her partner. Keres would never lie, not matter how convenient or harmless lying might be. Vikonyx had learned this to her ire when she had asked if Keres thought her vain. The answer had not been easy to hear, but neither had it been easy to refute. It had been the first time Vikonyx had agreed with Eragon's assessment that her partner was "brutally honest."

A strap chafed against her scales as Keres shifted in her dragon-back saddle. Though the girl was unconscious, Vikonyx could feel the color of her rider's dreams, and they were dark. Momentarily taking her mind off of her flight, the black dragon reached out to her partner. With a flicker of thought, she brushed the shadows from Keres' mind. In their place, Vikonyx sent a memory. The silver, soft-glow moon hung high in the sky as Vikonyx lay curled on the deck of the Wandering Bark as it had ferried her and her rider to Vrenbana. Keres sat on the deck, her back pressed against her dragon's warm side. The air-off-water was cool and clean and the stars were bright in the sky. It was a moment of absolute peace. In Vikonyx's mind, she felt her partner's tension ease. The color of her dreams grew brighter and less muddied.

Returning to herself, Vikonyx flapped thrice, carrying herself higher above the wing-crusher ground. Her perception of the situation was much cleaner and easier than her rider's. The Keres-mother sorceress was evil. Her sister of heart and soul had been intended as a weapon to be used against the world. Only a coward and monster would use a hatchling as a weapon. And Vikonyx agreed that her heart-sister deserved her vengeance. So, for the most part, she would leave the woman for Keres to handle. However, if the woman attempted to bind Keres to her once more, or otherwise harm her sister of heart and soul, Vikonyx would kill her without hesitation. The thought of incinerating the woman who had caused her partner so much grief was highly satisfying. It was running joke amongst the other Riders that Keres was even fiercer than Vikonyx. Most dragons would have been insulted by the insinuation, but Vikonyx did not mind. However, she disagreed with the statement. The truth was, Keres simply lost her temper more often. There had yet to be an individual who could set both their tempers aflame, but woe betide that person when the day finally came.

Arya had quickly explained where the rest of the Riders had been sent and had asked Keres to scry her mother in an attempt to discern her whereabouts. Though the young rider had been able to see the woman in the mirror, she couldn't see any of the woman's surroundings, leading both women to believe that the sorceress was likely underground. After giving the young rider some extra arrows to go with the bow Keres had received, the fierce-eye she-elf had sent them on their way.

Though she would never have admitted it, Vikonyx was tired. She had been touched, and more than a little relived, when heart-sister Keres had neglected to leave the previous day. Had the situation not been so momentous, Vikonyx would likely have convinced her partner to remain in Du Weldenvarden for some time. But this was important. It was imperative that Keres join the search as soon as possible. Her sister of heart and soul wanted this more than anything else. So she would fly. Though her wing-muscles ached and her limbs felt heavy and slow, she would fly with all haste to the Beor Mountains.

A snarl writhed her lips as Vikonyx beat her wings faster, quickening her pace as a tailwind sped her along. She was a bonded dragon, an inheritor of a proud legacy that had started with the mighty Bid'Daum. What was more, she was the first dragon trailed exclusively by Saphira Brightscales. Her rider was the daughter of Eragon, Shadeslayer and Kingkiller. They were a fearsome pair. And now they were flying to battle. Smoke trailed from her nostrils as she snorted with excitement. It was time to earn the title of Dragon and Rider.

* * *

Hey readers. Again, thanks to everyone for all the comments and notes. It really means a lot. Just a heads up, Risa will be on hiatus until August 14. The next chapter will be up that day.


	54. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

The Beor Mountains were everything Thane had heard and more. He had only glimpsed the tail end of them when he and Evaríncel had returned to Alagaësia, so this was his first real look at them. And they were massive. Even the mountains that ringed Vrenbana, tall though they were, felt small in comparison. Now, as Thane and his partner flew between the looming peaks, they reflected on how ironic it was that the smallest, sentient race in the land should live in such a place.

Upon receiving Eragon's message, Evaríncel had carried his rider to the mountains with as much speed as he could muster. There were few in the order who could best the white dragon's speed, so the flight had been relatively short. Thane had spent the intervening time storing as much energy as he could in the amulet around his neck and the diamond in the Kveykva's hilt. The stores there were already large. Part of a Rider's training was constantly storing away energy for later use. Every night before bed, apprentices were expected to empty as much energy as they could into whatever gem they carried. Amulets were the most common, but Thane knew of several riders that also used bracelets, earrings, rings, and even some circlets.

The amulet had been his gift when he had first entered his apprenticeship with Maira and Halastair. An eight-pointed star made of diamond was set within a silver pendant on a chain. The craftsmanship was exquisite, as most dwarf-work was. And the amount of energy that the gem could hold seemed endless. Even after all these years, he always had the feeling that he was trying to fill an ocean with a bucket. However, for the first time, he was glad of this fact. If Keres' mother was anywhere near as fearsome as he had been told, he might finally need to use those massive stores of energy.

"It seems strange to think that one so closely related to Keres could be capable of the things she is accused of." Evaríncel said softly.

_I know what you mean. Keres may be fierce, but she isn't cruel. _

"It makes me wonder, though. Keres spent many years being tutored by her mother before she became a Rider. It is likely that she saw, maybe even participated, in some of her mother's misdeeds. How different must she have been then? For I cannot imagine the Keres we know being content to stand by as atrocities are committed around her."

The thought had never occurred to Thane, but, now that he considered it, he had to admit that Evaríncel was correct. _You might not understand, since you hatched with me and we were immediately taken to Vrenbana, but the time spent with one's parents is . . . strange. You come to idolize them. You believe that everything they do is the height of wisdom. You hang on their every word and imitate their every action. _A sudden wave of sadness hit him as he continued. _Without anyone to tell her that what her mother did was wrong, is it any surprise that she might not have known?_

A low rumble emanated from Evaríncel's chest as he responded. "And how traumatic, once she realized what she had been a part of. In that context, her hatred of bullies and criminals is understandable."

Thane nodded. He remembered the confrontation between Ralihirn and Keres quite vividly. During a group lesson, the elf had been sparring with Bodrin. Of course, "sparring" was the polite term for it. In reality, Ralihirn had simply been cracking Bodrin about the head and shoulders. The young man had never been overly talented with the sword, and Ralihirn, being an elf, was obviously far more skilled. The pair had only been sparring for about ten minutes when Thane had first noted Keres' reaction. Though her face had been calm, he had felt as if he were watching a barrel of gunpowder that was about to explode.

And explode she did. He hadn't even been able to follow the movement as she had launched herself off the ground and stepped between Bodrin and Ralihirn. There was a discordant clang and then everyone had frozen. Keres held her sword up, blocking Ralihirn's downward cut that had been about to smack Bodrin's shoulder. Her brown was furrowed as she snarled a single word. "Enough"

For a moment, Thane watched as the elf exerted his strength against her, but she didn't waver. Nor did her arm tremble as she held back his strike. Finally, Ralihirn drew back his sword and said, "He needs to learn to defend himself."

"This isn't teaching. This is abuse. Help him if you want, but clearly your way of instruction is not working."

The elf's upper lip twitched faintly in the beginnings of a sneer. "Being Eragon's apprentice does not mean you can instruct us. I was learning to lead before you were born."

She had raised a single eyebrow in what was clearly a mocking look of surprise. "Truly? Well perhaps you should have taken some lessons on manners as well. It seems the fabled courtesy of the elves failed to leave an impression on you."

At that moment, Thane had been certain a fight was inevitable. And there was nothing any of them could have done to stop it. Even Ethrunor, brave and large as he was, looked petrified at the idea of getting in between these two young riders. They knew little enough of Keres, and what they had heard only made them more anxious at the thought of a fight between her and Ralihirn. He had, therefore, been immensely relieved when Eragon had appeared and told both Ralihirn and Keres to stand down. Still, even though he was better friends with Ralihirn than he had been with Keres, he couldn't help but respect what she had done.

Evaríncel disrupted his thought by growling, "You think of her rather fondly." It wasn't a question, and a faint tinge of humor colored the dragon's voice.

Thane shifted. _So?_

"I simply find it interesting, given that we know fairly little about her."

The young rider was silent for a moment as he considered his partner's words. After a while, he responded. _I . . . admire her. Training to become a Dragon Rider isn't easy, as I well know. However, her circumstances made her path more difficult than most. To endure what she did and still hold to her beliefs and morals is impressive._

"Impressive in the way that Nikkal is impressive?" This time there was genuine amusement in Evaríncel's words.

Thane had intended to say no, then caught himself. His ears and cheeks began to burn. Struggling to maintain some semblance of nonchalance, he said, _They are both strong women, if that is what you mean. _

"But of course." The laughter in the dragon's mind was clearly discernible through their link and Thane staunchly ignored it.

Over the last few months, he had seen Nikkal several times. He often visited her in Dras Leona whenever he had free time. It was comforting to have another human to talk to. Nortavog was pleasant enough, but she was still and Urgal, and subject to the eccentricities of her race. Her stance on various issues was often much more stoic than a human's would be. Sometimes Thane found this intriguing, but other times it was simply frustrating. Tarehlak rarely spoke to him at all, preferring to spend his free time down in his forge. Therefore, Nikkal had become his go-to companion, aside from Evaríncel of course.

The dragon found this blossoming relationship highly amusing. Dragons lacked any of the uncertainty that humans usually had when entering a relationship. Because of this, Evaríncel couldn't understand many of Thane's concerns. He would listen silently as Thane agonized over what to wear and say and do. Occasionally, the dragon would offer a suggestion or comment, but for the most part, he would simply observe. Though the dragon was too polite to allow his mirth to seep through their link, there were times when it was so great that Thane was unable to ignore it. However, he couldn't remain angry at his partner over it. When looking at the situation from the white dragon's point of view, Thane could understand why his actions might seem funny.

As the discomfort drained from him, Thane again fell to observing the landscape. The mountains were a patchwork of lush, green foliage, dark brown earth, silver-white snow, and cold grey cliffs. There was no recognizable pattern, but there was a beauty to the sharp contrasts. However, it was a wild and fearsome beauty. Every so often, the thunder of Evaríncel's wings would set off an avalanche on a nearby mountain, sending a cascade of white powder hurtling down the slope. They were flying up near the edge of breathable space, where the air was thin. Unlikely that it was that they would encounter the Sorceress, they had both agreed that it would behoove them to stay high enough that they couldn't be attacked except from the highest mountainsides.

It was nearly noon when Evaríncel spoke again. "There they are." For a moment, Thane wasn't sure what the dragon was talking about. Then his partner dipped down, breaking through a low-hanging cloud and swooping around the side of a massive peak.

Thane's breath caught in his throat. Four dragons stood atop a sheer cliff that jutted out into the open air. Their scales glistened in the sunlight, so that it looked like gem-studded mountains rose up out of the bare rock. Thane recognized Kakirvog, brother of Nortavog, and his red dragon Carnelio. Inna Talrin was immediately recognizable, even at this distance. Her lustrous, golden hair matched the color of her dragon almost perfectly. The dragon Chryssa reminded him of a statue that he had seen in a noble's house during his childhood. The hard, metallic color of her scales made it seem as if she were wearing golden plate armor. Tarehlak and Gintare were there was well. The glittering amber dragon dwarfed the others, especially the small, blue dragon that couched nearby. With a thrill of delight, Thane and Evaríncel recognized Diruyera and, standing at her side, Ethrunor.

As Evaríncel swooped down, backflapping to slow himself. The urgal looked up and bared his teeth in a grin. Even before the white dragon had fully settled onto the ground, Ethrunor was reaching up to grasp Thane's arm.

"It is good to see you again." He rumbled in his low base.

Wincing slightly at the pressure that enveloped his forearm, Thane grinned. "Ethrunor, you're looking well!"

The urgal bobbed his head, massive horns making the motion oddly comical. "We may not have been hunting monsters, but Yera and I have not been idle. Training never ends."

"That it doesn't." Thane agreed.

As the Urgal stepped back to let him dismount, he nodded to Tarehlak, who returned the gesture. Kakirvog approached him then, lifting his head to bare his throat. "We are well met once again Thane and Evaríncel."

Thane smiled at him. "Well met indeed Kakirvog and Carnelio. How are the young apprentices?"

"Readying themselves to make the journey to Vrenbana." Carnelio said in his soft, musical voice. "They are as all young apprentices are at such a stage: nervous and excited."

As Inna approached, Kakirvog glanced over toward her and said, "I am told the two of you have never met. So allow me to introduce you. This is Inna Talrin, one of the best healers the Riders have to offer."

"Now Kakir, you know flattery will get you nowhere." Her voice was like the chiming of a bell and Thane immediately felt his cheeks flush and woman approached him. True to the rumors, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders in long, molten waves. Her eyes were clear, deep blue pools. Even clad in leather armor, she was a beauty to equal any elf that Thane had ever seen. And she was extending a hand to him. "I am glad to finally make your acquaintance, Thane Fiachreson."

For a moment, Thane was find his voice. Finally, he managed, "And I am glad to meet you, Miss Talrin. Though, from what I have heard, Kakirvog did not exaggerate."

She laughed again. "You are very kind to say so. My skill is paltry compared to what I would like it to be."

A new presence touched his mind and Thane looked up to see the golden dragon Chryssa approaching. She lowered her huge head until she could observe him with a single, forest-green eye. "It is good to meet you, young-one." When he responded in kind, she raised her head to stare at Evaríncel. "I have long desired to meet the first white dragon born to our new order." She regarded him for a moment before blowing out a puff of dark smoke. "Your coloring is most unusual, Evaríncel. White dragons are rare. You have a mighty legacy to uphold."

The white dragon lifted his head, letting out his own cloud of smoke. "The task is not beyond me, I assure you."

From where he sat atop Gintare, Tarehlak called, "Yes, yes, everyone is glad to see everyone else. Are we done? Because if so, we have a majorly powerful enemy to hunt down."

Turning to look at him, Kakirvog nodded, "You are right. And every minute we delay is another minute she could escape our grasp."

Tarehlak grunted in agreement as he climbed down from the saddle. Moving to a flat section of rock, he pulled out a square of parchment from his pocket and carefully unfolded it, weighting each of the edges down with stone. As they all gathered around the map, he began to speak. "I'm sure you all know who it is we are hunting. If you're not at least a little worried, you're an idiot. But this foe is not beyond us. She may be strong, but she has never come into direct conflict with a Dragon Rider before. That is to our advantage." He pointed to a spot that was marked with a red x. "This was where she was last sighed. A patrol out of Orthiad apparently stumbled into a trap she had set. The patrol was five strong, only three got out." His face darkened. "This is the first contact we have had with her in many, many years. However, in the past, she has preyed on both dwarves and elves, and some urgals, to a lesser extent. After Keres identified her lairs, we discovered the remains of many of our missing within, which led us to believe that she captured her victims alive."

Looking up at the group, he continued, "If we can find her soon enough, we might be able to save the two dwarves she took. However, since she can use magic, we have no way of knowing how far she could have traveled since then. Because of this, we'll have to split up in order to cover more ground. Gintare and I will fly southeast toward Dalgon. Ethrunor, you and Diruyera will fly east toward the Beartooth River. Inna and Chryssa will fly north. Kakirvog, you and Carnelio will fly northwest toward Petrovya. Thane and Evaríncel will fly southwest toward the sea." Staring hard at each of them in turn, the dwarf added, "We've found that she prefers to build her dwellings into the earth. The entrances are usually very well concealed by both mundane and magical means. The dwarves will be searching on foot, but their abilities are limited. Our best bet will be to scan for large life energies."

Ethrunor frowned. "But that is an imprecise art. If she's took far underground, we could easily miss both her and the captives."

"That's true." Inna admitted, "But in that case, we'd never find them anyways. This way, at least we have a chance."

"In a perfect world, if any of you found her, we would simply have you observe her until backup can arrive. However, I think it's safe to assume that if any one of us finds her, we will have to engage, if only to keep from losing her." Tarehlak growled. "Still, even if we must engage, try to stall for as long as possible. Once you find her, use the mirror to send word to the rest of us. We will join you as quickly as possible."

There was silence as the ground continued to stare at the map. Thane could feel a growing sense of trepidation as he stared at the small, red x. It seemed quite insufficient to portray the danger that they could possibly find in that area.

To his surprise, it was Ethrunor who spoke first. "Well, sitting here won't make the mission any safer."

"That it will not." Kakirvog agreed.

Inna straightened up and the others followed suit. In her clear, bright voice, she said, "Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass brodiné."

As one, they all responded, "Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass." The words were solemn and carried the weight of all their fears. Then there was silence as they all returned to their dragons and pulled themselves into the saddle. Gintare was the first to take off, heaving her massive bulk into the air before turning and gliding away. Then went Chryssa, her scale blazing in the light so that she shone like a miniature sun. Carnelio followed suit, leaving Evaríncel and Diruyera standing alone upon the cliff. As the blue dragon launched herself into the sky, Ethrunor raised a hand in farewell. Thane returned the gesture, swaying slightly as Evaríncel spread his wings. A moment later, the ground rushed away beneath them and they were speeding off.

The wind tugged at Thane's hair and clothes as Evaríncel quickly chose his course, flying much lower to the ground than he had previously.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

Thane shrugged. _There's not really a choice is there? _

"No. This must be done. And we must do our part."

Thane nodded in agreement as he allowed himself to relax. Closing his eyes, he opened up his mind ever so slightly, and extended his consciousness down toward the valleys below.

* * *

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass brodiné - May your swords stay sharp brothers.


	55. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

Keres awoke to a world of gray. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what she was staring at. Then, the wall behind her heaved a great sigh and shifted. A grin broke over her face as she realized where she was. Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips over the thin membrane of Vikonyx's wings. She heard a snort and a bleary voice grumbled, "That tickles."

_Well, let me out and you can go back to sleep. _

With a groan, the black dragon lifted her wing, letting in a wave of sunshine. Keres shielded her eyes. The wind must have blown during the night because a shower of fine, golden granules fell to the ground at the motion. Rolling dunes stretched as far as the eye could see. Some were small, barely reaching her waist. Others soared high above her head, so large that Vikonyx could have hidden behind them. To the northeast, she could see the vague outlines of Du Fells Nángoröth, the Blasted Mountains. She knew that Vikonyx had greatly wanted to turn aside and explore the ancestral home of the dragons, but Keres was relieved her partner hadn't brought it up. Getting to the Beor Mountains was the most important thing right now. Still, she did feel slightly guilty and had resolved to visit the mountains with her dragon as soon as time allowed.

Almost directly west of them, she could also see two small lumps in the horizon that marked what the nomads called The Hill of Bones. The elves had dubbed the two small mountains Burhaed and Burĵarg. They were little more than mounds of bare rock, as their names implied, but they provided some much-needed variety to the monotonous landscape. Admittedly, she had paid little enough attention to the scenery during their flight. Much of her time had been spent in silent meditation, trying to recall as much as she could about her mother. The memories were dim and vague, but Keres persisted. Any information she could recall might help her to save herself, Vikonyx, or another dragon and rider. Already, she had managed to recall two of the spells of shielding her mother often used.

Whenever she was able to remember a spell, she would then spend time working out ways to avoid, negate, or counteract it. While there was no guarantee that her mother would be using the same spells, Keres was relatively sure that any new ones would likely be similar to the old. After all, her mother's pride had been great, even when she was a child. After years of successfully evading not just the dwarves, but the elves and the Dragon Riders, her confidence, and more importantly, her arrogance, would only have grown. So Keres spend a significant portion of her time thinking up the most outlandish and creative spells she could think of. Magic could be used in an infinite number of ways. If one was clever, they could find a way around almost any spell.

However, she had already decided that her best bet would be to get close enough to use Skraván. The blade would be unimpeded by any magical barrier. Moreover, she had, during her time in Du Weldenvarden, discovered a unique ability of her blade. Such ability had become more common following the creation of Rhunön's new method of forging swords. Eragon's Brisingr had been the first example. It burst into flame when its name was spoken. Skálufa, the blade forged for Maira, had later been shown to emit a thick, golden mist when evoked. Gareth's sword, Vágra, had also been truly named. The word meant "wave" in the common tongue, and when its name was called, the air around the sword would shimmer and move, as if a heat mirage rose from the steel. The result was that it was nearly impossible to pinpoint the exact location of the sword, making dueling difficult. So it had been with nearly every sword that had been crafted for this new generation of riders.

As of yet, Rhunön had not been able to pinpoint exactly why this occurred, but she and her apprentice, Ethowyn, had made several educated guesses. The most compelling of these was that, since the rider put so much of their energy into the blade, it also took on some facet of their personality as well. As it was the rider who chose the name for their blade, the elf-smiths believed that the name was inherently linked to the personality imbued in the blade. Keres wasn't sure if this was true or not, but she did known that Skraván felt like more than just an extension of her arm, as most swords did. This was an extension of herself, of her being. When she wielded it, she felt that she understood how Vikonyx felt about her teeth and claws. The sword was as much a part of her as her arms and legs. It was inherent to her very existence.

Her meditations had been broken numerous times by the sudden cold of the mirror she carried. Each time, she had removed it from her pocket only long enough to glimpse Eragon's face before shoving it back into its case. Though it went against her training, she knew she could not answer. If she did so, he would forbid her from going to the aid of the other riders, and that was something that she could not allow. She had already altered the spell on the mirror so that it would emit no sound. As all riders enchanted their own mirrors, it had been a simple matter of making a few changes to her earlier spell. It could be reversed once the situation had changed. For now, it was imperative that she neither look at, nor hear from Eragon.

She had relented only once. The first day after her departure from Du Weldenvarden, Eragon had tried to reach her for nearly two hours. Finally, she closed her eyes and lifted the mirror to where she knew her face would be fully reflected in it. In the Ancient Language, she had said, "I am sorry Master. I must go. Please forgive me." After a few moments of consideration, she had haltingly added, "I love you, father." The words halt felt strange rolling off her tongue. She had never uttered them to anyone but Vikonyx, and even then they were mostly spoken in their conjoined minds. Keres didn't wait to see his reaction. She had broken off the contact and returned the mirror to its case. She desperately hoped he understood. This was necessary.

The memory saddened her and she shook it away, crawling out from beneath her partner's wing and rising to her full height. Already, the desert was uncomfortably warm. The air around her was stifling, even with the light breeze. It sucked the moisture from her throat and would have cracked her lips had she not already shielded them with a spell. As most of her food was dry, this had made mealtimes nearly unbearable. She had to take a drink of water after every bite, which had depleted her stores such that she had to call up water twice each time they stopped for food and rest.

The very thought made her thirsty and, as she pulled a few strips of dried meat she glanced around for a suitable spot to dig this morning's watering hole. It needed to be on a relatively flat stretch of ground, else sand would trickle down into it from above. She had walked nearly a full circle around her partner before she found a suitable patch of earth. Keres eyed the ground speculatively. On every other occasion, Vikonyx had dug the hole for her, but she was loath to wake her partner again. She could use a spell to clear out a hole large enough for both her and Vikonyx to drink, but she was unsure how much energy such a spell would require. Finally, she settled on an idea. Instead of trying to move all of the sand at once, she would focus on creating the hole in layers. That way, she could control the amount of energy she expended. Lifting her right hand, she selected a few words in the ancient language and spoke the incantation. An oval nearly four feet long and three feet wide appeared in the sand. It would have been invisible, but for the small wall of sand that rose around it, denoting the places where Keres had moved the excess. Repeating the spell over and over again, she watched as the depression deepened and the wall rose and thickened.

Her hole was nearly a foot deep a large shadow fell over her. She was just preparing to recite the spell again when a scaly foot pushed her aside. "Quit wasting your energy." The words were equal parts irritation and amusement. Within moments, Vikonyx had deepened her hole to nearly four feet and widened it by two in all directions. It was now large enough that Keres could have easily bathed in it.

Squinting up into the sunlight, Keres snorted, "Well, good morning to you too."

"You woke me up by tickling me. Had you been anyone else I'd likely have squashed you."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I must have been a bite out of it because I only vaguely remember landing last night. Where are we?"

Had Vikonyx been human, she'd have raised an eyebrow. Instead, Keres felt the surprise radiating from her partner, who answered, "You don't remember? We only landed because of you. You were adamant that I get a proper night's sleep."

Keres smiled. "See? I must really care if I can be nearly unconscious and still concerned about my beloved partner." The black dragon harrumped, but Keres sensed her mood was less grumpy than she was showing. Though Vikonyx would never have admitted it, she had been nearly the end of her endurance yesterday. She had been grateful for the rest, though she would fallen from the sky before she had suggested halting their flight.

Keres smiled as Eragon's voice spoke from her memory. "I'd never have believed it, but you managed to be bonded to the one dragon who may be as stubborn as you. Even the wild dragons have some common sense. If I didn't pay close attention, you two would kill yourself before asking for a break." She could almost see him shaking his head and murmuring "madness" under his breath. Both she and Vikonyx had chosen to take that as a compliment.

Returning to the saddlebags, Keres removed the three water skins that she always carried with her. As they were each stored in a different place, this took her a minute, but she quickly had the skins in hand and was returning to the freshly-dug pit. As she quickly reviewed her selected spell and uttered the words, she couldn't suppress a grin. It wasn't lost on ether her or Vikonyx that they were now following in the footsteps of their masters. It was wholly possible that Eragon and Saphira had stopped somewhere near here during their own trek through the Hadarac Desert in the company of Murtagh. Water trickled up into the hole, from deep below the ground and slowly filled the indentation.

As was their custom, Keres filled her water skins first before leaning down to quaff the clear water herself. Then she moved aside so that Vikonyx could lower her head to the small pool. They had quickly discovered that the water took on a sour, burnt taste if the dragon drank first. Moreover, Keres couldn't help but feel somewhat sick when she considered that some of the Vikonyx's saliva must have remained behind in the water. She couldn't' be sure, but the young rider felt certain that many of the things her partner ate would make her deathly ill if she attempted to eat them, therefore it was likely that drinking the water might make her equally sick. The dragon drank deeply, forcing Keres to expend a bit more strength to pull the needed water to the surface. When the dragon lifted her head, crystalline droplets of water clung to her black scales.

Keres sighed, allowing the water to sink back through the sand, but she didn't fill in the depression yet. Instead, she quickly retrieved her breakfast and sat down in the shade of her partner's body. The dragon was now stretching, flexing each of her limbs much the same way a cat would.

Finally, Vikonyx said, "I will need to hunt at some point today. I cannot risk going into battle with your mother without any reserves of strength."

Keres nodded absently, munching on a strip of dried meat. _I agree. With luck, we should reach the mountains tomorrow, meaning we should see them later today. You should eat while you can._

"You will have to accompany me."

That caught Keres' attention. She blinked, looking up at the dragon. _What?_

Vikonyx tilted her head sideways. "The idea of leaving you alone in the desert sits uneasily with me. Though the Riders now patrol the land, there are still slavers and bandits in these uninhabited reaches. Moreover, with these strange creatures on the loose, it would not do for us to separate."

_Do you honestly think I'd have any trouble dealing with bandits or slavers?_

"No, I think bandits and slavers would have trouble dealing with you. I'd prefer that our first act in Alagaësia not be to kill a large group of people."

_Fair enough. _Keres' face was thoughtful as she slowly chewed her food. _You've never hunted with me on your back. Will I be a hindrance?_

"That is unlikely. I have hunted with the saddle on many times before. You do not weigh enough that it would unbalance me. Unless you feel the urge to shout as I stalk my prey, there should be no problem."

_I could probably immobilize it for you, come to think of it. _

The black armored tail whipped over the ground, clearing a patch of smooth, level sand. "Why would I need you to do that? It would remove the challenge from the hunt."

_It was just an idea. _Now that she had considered it, Keres was excited at the prospect of going on a hunt with her dragon. She had only ever watched such hunts from a distance, or else seen them through Vikonyx's eyes. The maneuvers wouldn't be dissimilar from those they utilized in their battle training, so the danger was minimal. Nodding to herself, Keres decided that this would be fun, and busied herself making sure the packs on saddle were all secured.

She had only been doing this for a few minutes when her palm began to tingle and itch. She had mindlessly scratched it twice before she realized that the sensation was coming from her Gedwëy Ignasia. Keres quickly looked around her, but saw only mile after mile of sand. Still, her mark had never been wrong before. Could there be something she was overlooking? Shielding her eyes from the sun, she began to slowly turn around, examining the land in every direction. Something was off, but she couldn't decide what it was. Keres squinted into the distance, a faint frown on her face.

It finally dawned on her that the horizon looked to have gotten substantially closer. That didn't make any sense. It was nearly a full minute before she suddenly realized what she was looking at. Something of her sense of impending horror must have reached Vikonyx, for the dragon looked up, turning her head in the direction Keres was staring. Again, comprehension took a few seconds, but a sudden string of very un-dragon-like curse words told Keres that her partner was equally upset.

She scrambled to gather her things and throw them back into her pack. Finishing, she leapt on Vikonyx's back. The black dragon took off even before Keres was strapped into the saddle. The young girl cursed, slipping sideways and clutching at the saddle horn. For a moment, her legs dangled above the rapidly retreating ground. She closed her eyes, fighting against the vertigo that seized her. Then she pulled herself up and managed to throw one leg over the dragon's back. Her hair whipped around her face as she looked back over her shoulder.

_Vikonyx, you're a good flier, but I don't think you can outrun a sandstorm. _Though her dragon excelled at acrobatics, there were several dragons, both wild and bonded, who could outstrip her over distance. Ordinarily, she would have tried to be a bit more tactful, but imminent danger prompted her to cut to the chase.

"Well thank you. Any other obvious things you'd like to point out?"

_Sarcasm isn't helping. _

"Neither is negativity."

_Enough, Vikonyx. _Keres rarely gave commands to her partner. As they were both extremely prideful, they made it a point of always asking things of each other rather than demanding them unless they were in complete agreement. However, it was occasionally necessary to one to rebuke the other. Keres judged that this was such a time. Ignoring the dragon's outrage, the young girl snapped. _We're wasting energy with this argument. What's your plan? _

Though her partner was still angry, Vikonyx grudgingly responded, "We'll never make it to the Lost Eyrie in time. I'm trying to find the tallest, largest dune so that we can hunker down on top of it."

_Wouldn't it make more sense to shelter at the base? _

"No. The wind will be stronger at the base. Also, there's no guarantee that the storm won't just push the dune down on top of us. You'll need to cast a spell to keep the air around our faces clear, but we shouldn't have to worry about debris this far into the desert. There's nothing but sand for the storm to pick up."

Though a host of questions swirled about in her head, Keres kept them to herself. Vikonyx would have learned this from one of the older dragons and Keres had never had such instruction. Sandstorms weren't something Eragon had encountered. Dragon Riders rarely needed to venture into the Hadarac Desert, which would explain why the finer points of surviving a sandstorm were absent from their training. Instead of questioning the dragon further, Keres focused her efforts on constructing the spell she would need. She had no idea how much energy it would take to filter all of the particles out of the air so that they could breathe without filing their lungs with sand. For the same reason, she didn't dare try to construct a spell to shield them completely from the sand, sufficing herself with masking on their faces. And, in spite of Vikonyx's assurances that she need not worry about debris, she was still determined to maintain their wards through the storm.

Another glance over her shoulder told Keres that the storm was rapidly bearing down on them. Vikonyx pulled in her wings and dropped into a steep dive. She landed heavily on top of a huge sand dune. The impact sent a cloud of sand and dust billowing into the air and, for a moment, Keres could only cough and choke. Finally, she regained enough of her breath to gasp out the spell she had created. She had intended to remain strapped into the saddle, but Vikonyx growled, "No, climb down and shelter below my neck. I don't want you impaling yourself on one of my spikes."

Keres nodded, releasing her legs and slipping out of the saddle. Vikonyx crouched down, waiting as her rider crawled between her front legs to hunker against her chest. Lowering her head, she stretched her serpentine neck around, shielding her face beneath one of her curled wings. Keres found herself in a small hollow created by Vikonyx's armored forelegs and neck. Peeking out through a gap in the black armor, she watched as the horizon raced toward them.

It was a solid wall of golden-brown color. Now that it was closer, she could see the front of the storm. Keres had momentarily wondered if they couldn't fly high enough to avoid the storm altogether. Now, she could see that the front of the cloud stretched up into the sky like a moving mountain. She had seen some huge waves crash along the shore of the Sea of Ghosts east of Vrenbana. At the time, she had been impressed by the size of the swells that broke along the jagged coastline. But this wave of sand dwarfed them all. Even Vikonyx seemed no larger than a dog in the shadow of the storm. Nor could Keres see an end to it. The wall stretched to the horizon on either side of them, sweeping over the land like a blanket being pulled over the world. It was horrifying. Even the speed at which it moved seemed supernatural. Few things could outstrip a dragon in flight, but the wall of sand had gained miles on them in seconds. Now Keres could only watch helplessly as it bore down on them and blotted out the sun. She felt as though she crouched at the feet of a vengeful god who was bending to smite the entire world.

Then it struck them.

Vikonyx shuddered and hunkered down still further as the wind tried to tear her from the top of the dune. Things didn't go immediately black, as she had expected. Instead, the world turned a dull, gold-brown as dust slowly decreased the range she could see. Wind screamed in her ears and, sheltered though she was, she felt the scrape of sand against her skin. Then the darkness began to fall. The gold color began to fade into a dull, rusty-red, which then darkened into a deep crimson. Keres had the bizzare impression that she was watching a sunset many times faster than usual. From the deep red, the sky slowly darkened until everything was black. The scream shifted into a dull, rushing roar that filled her senses. It was chaos. Pure chaos. They were lost in the middle of a turbulent void. For one of the first times in her life, Keres felt real fear take hold of her.

The storm seemed to go on for hours. The extreme conditions dulled her senses until Keres had lost all sense of time and location. Had she slept? She wasn't sure. But, gradually, the black lightened into the dark crimson, then to the rust-red. Keres realized that she was curled into a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her head. Her muscles were cramped and tight.

For the first time since the storm hit, Vikonyx spoke. "Is it lessening?"

_Yes. I can see some light now. _

The black dragon trembled slightly as she murmured, "I felt . . . I felt as if the wind were going to pull me apart."

Keres nodded against her partner's hide. Though she hadn't feared the wind, sheltered as she was, she had felt the insecurity that came with the dark. There had been a strange, irrational fear that she would simply come undone amidst the fury of the storm. It was why she had been holding herself so tightly together. Now, the thought seemed absurd, but in the darkness, the threat had seemed very real.

Eventually, the sky cleared and Keres was able to glimpse a bright blue through the gap between Vikonyx's neck and arms. Shifting where she sat, the young rider realized that she was half-buried in the sand. Her dragon had not been so lucky. Not even a strip of black was visible. Her partner now looked like a massive sand dune. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Vikonyx rose to her feet. Sand poured off her in waves, forming a strange outline of her body on the ground. She flared her wings, knocking loose still more sand as she began to shake herself. Keres swore as she saw the saddle emerge from beneath a mound of sand. It was made to be immune to most weather damage, but she didn't know if that protection extended to sandstorms. She hoped it had. She hadn't thought to put a spell on it to keep the grains out.

Even with magic, it took nearly a half-hour to get all the sand out of her clothes, Vikonyx's scales, and the saddlebags, which, it turned out, were not immune to sandstorms. Keres had been ready to remove the bags and allow Vikonyx a rest, but the dragon had ardently refused.

"At this very minute, one of your brothers or sisters could be under attack. We cannot afford to delay."

_Are you sure? You weren't at your best yesterday and that storm took a lot out of you. I don't want you injuring yourself. _

The black dragon leaned down to nuzzle her cheek. "Your concern is appreciated, heart-sister. However, this is necessary. I can rest when our work is done."

_But . . ._

"Do not argue. You will not win."

So Keres had ceased her resistance. They had quickly gotten underway and soon, Vikonyx was high in the clear blue sky. The storm as still visible off to the west, but they paid it little attention now. They were both straining their eyes, trying to catch sight of the Beor Mountains, which should have been coming into view at any moment.

The mirror once again grew icy in her pocket and she withdrew it tentatively, ready to slam it back into its case if she glimpsed Eragon's visage. To her surprise, the surface of the mirror was clouded. Fog blurred the image of what she recognized as Eragon's study. It was only visible, however, because of the six words that had been carefully drawn in the fog. They must have been written backward on his end, for they showed up correctly in her mirror. She stared at them for a long moment, fixing the image in her mind even as a tear trickled down her cheek. Her fingers tightened on the cold metal and she clutched it to her chest. A strange mixture of sadness and joy settled in her chest, as she closed her eyes, forcing the tears back. When again they opened, the white orbs were hard and determined. As Vikonyx winged her way to the south, Keres again began her meditation, clutching the words close to her heart.

I love you too. Be safe.

* * *

After a ridiculous number of Internet problems, here is the next chapter. Sorry for the wait. I really appreciate the reviews guys! Please keep them coming.


	56. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

The first day and a half of searching bore no fruit. Thane quickly discovered that he could only spend four to five hours searching with his mind before he began to lose his sense of self. At times, he was convinced that only Evaríncel's will kept him rooted to his body. As he observed the hundreds of thousands of lights beneath him, Thane reflected that this was how a god must feel. Still, to watch and watch and watch the world but never impose one's will upon it was a difficult task. Connected as he was to the world around him, he could see every tragedy unfolding in the lives of nearby plants and animals. They shone like stars against the inanimate rock and soil.

Though he had eventually restricted his search to only animals larger than a dog, there were still hundreds of lights for him to examine. Bears and wolves and wild cats and deer blazed like bonfires to his eyes. Trees and bushes and large patches of lichen glowed more gently, their slower intelligences crawled along at a measured pace. Twice, Thane and Evaríncel had encountered Fanghur, which had prompted both dragon and rider to close their minds until they had driven off the dragon-like beasts.

The word was tedious and Thane quickly felt his anxiety slipping away, only to be replaced by a sense of frustration. Eragon seemed to think that the Sorceress was still in the area. But if she knew that the Riders were coming after her, why wouldn't she leave? _After all, no normal magic user is stronger than a dragon and rider together. _

To his surprise, Evaríncel had been quick to contradict him. "But we already know that she isn't a normal magic user. Not even the eldest of the Eldunarí can say what Keres actually is. She isn't human. She isn't elf. She isn't any of the known races. Even the elves have no idea what she is. And the Sorceress created her!"

_She birthed her. That's different. _

"You know as well as I do that Keres wasn't just conceived like that. She was made like that, with magic. Her mother . . . designed her. She created a new species, Thane." When his words met only silence, the white dragon sighed, "I know you fancy her, but even you have to know that she's not like any other creature you've ever encountered."

_I don't fancy her!_ Thane growled.

Evaríncel snorted, "You always seem to stick up for her whenever someone has something negative to say."

_I just think she gets a bad rap from everyone. Everyone expects the worst from her. People who've never even met her don't like her. _Thane's hands tightened into fists. _That's not fair. It's not right. No one should have to deal with that. _

"Nevertheless, you have a blind spot where she is concerned. She might look human, but she is not. You would do well to remember that, not because I think she poses any danger, but because she is a testament to her mother's mastery of magic." He paused before adding, "I also think I am well within my rights to say that if she knew that you pitied her, she would only resent you for it."

Thane's irritation was so great that, at first, he couldn't formulate a coherent response. He knew that his partner could sense his emotions, but the dragon didn't comment on it. It was several minutes before Thane could calm himself enough to consider what Evaríncel had said. He had never considered that his desire to defend Keres against the opinions of others was based in pity. He supposed that it was, but he didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing. However, the white dragon was right in saying that Keres would only resent being pitied. She would see it as a sign of disrespect.

But Evaríncel was right in one thing, she was unlike any other creature they had encountered. When he had first viewed her from a distance, he hadn't really understood what all the fuss was about. Certainly, her hair was a bit of an oddity. He had never seen anyone with hair so white. Her eyes had been somewhat unnerving. To be honest, that sensation hadn't gone away no matter how often he saw her. However, even that hadn't been enough to make her seem completely alien. There was just . . . a sense of the other about her. There were times, particularly when he saw her training, that he felt like an animal in the presence of a predator.

With Nikkal, as with most women, Thane was reminded of a cat. She possessed a quiet strength and a sense of demure beauty that he recognized in most Alagaësian women. Much like cats, Thane always had a sneaking suspicion that women usually knew more than they were supposed to, and definitely more than they told. With Keres . . . the only animal that he could compare her to was a wolf. Certainly there was strength there, and beauty, but there was something else as well. At times, particularly when she was training hard, Thane had the strangest sense of being in the presence of a predator. It was as if, the more she exerted herself, the wilder and more unpredictable she grew. He did not fear her at those times, but he regarded her with a renewed sense of wariness. _The question is, which one is the real Keres? The quiet, noble one or the fierce, wild one? _Then a darker thought occurred to him. _Is that ferocity something that she inherited from her mother?_

To the surprise of everyone in the order, Eragon had also alerted them to the fact that Keres and Vikonyx were on their way to reinforce the group and join the search. Thane had though that Eragon's expression had grown sad as he had revealed the news, but he didn't comment on it. He had heard from some of the elder riders that Eragon had declared Keres to be his adopted daughter. At the time, the news had bothered him slightly. Masters and their apprentices were supposed to be close, but there was also a certain level of professionalism that needed to be maintained. As he had considered it, however, he had eventually decided that Keres' circumstances were somewhat different.

Most apprentices were in their teens before they were finally given over to a master for individual training. Keres had been much, much younger when Eragon had taken her on as his apprentice. Also, she had come without any real family to speak of, excepting her mother. On a more political level, Thane recognized the move as a masterstroke toward securing Keres' continued loyalty. If there was any question of whom she would support, the Riders or her mother, Eragon's declaring her as his daughter would, at worst, divide her loyalty and, at best, ensure it. However, it was unlikely that this had been Eragon's motivation. Thane thought that the decision had been made on a much more emotional level, which also made sense. Eragon was utterly alone. Arya was his closest friend, save Saphira, and she had to remain in Du Weldenvarden. All the members of his family that he had known well were dead. Even though they shared his blood, Roran's descendants were total strangers. Keres was in much the same boat, having left her mother so young that she would barely remember her, if she even wanted to at all. That they should gravitate toward each other was inevitable.

_Besides, _he had told Evaríncel, _everyone deserves to have a family. _

In light of all this, Eragon's consternation that Keres was inserting herself into such a dangerous situation was completely understandable. Much to his own surprise, Thane had felt a tinge of relief to hear that she was coming to back them up. She was an exceptionally skilled fighter and had been raised speaking the Ancient Language. Her skills were on par with that of an elf, which made her a valuable ally in any battle.

_That is, of course, assuming we actually find this woman. _

Thane realized that he should probably get back to searching, but the prospect of opening his mind again and spending another few hours watching the landscape fade beneath Evaríncel's wings. Instead, he spoke in a clipped, terse tone. _Land by that stream over there. I need a break. _

The white dragon acknowledged his words by tilting into a shallow dive. Beneath them, an emerald glade opened at the bottom of two sheer, rocky cliffs. A silver ribbon ran through it, fed by a small waterfall that poured over the edge of one of the cliffs. Evaríncel's claws crunched on the gravelly shore as he landed, folding his wings carefully. Thane slid off his back, groaning as his muscles stretched for the first time since the morning. All Dragon Riders were accustomed to riding for long periods, but not since the trip to Alagaësia had he been so stiff after a day in the saddle. He stripped off his gloves before leaning down to drink from the clear, crisp water. He knew he should probably apologize to his partner. But he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet. He needed to calm himself first.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged his head into the water. It was shockingly cold against his skin and he could only bear it a few seconds before he drew back. Water dripped from his dark hair into his face and droplets trickled off his chin. However, the move had worked. His head felt clearer now. Clear enough to notice, for the first time, the woman who stood about twenty yards away.

_Evaríncel_ Thane's eyes narrowed. _Did you see her when we landed?_

The white dragon, who had been drinking as well, lifted his head, and Thane felt surprise and unease radiate from his partner. "No, there was no one when we landed. I'm certain of it."

_Well, she can't have just appeared out of nowhere._

He stared at the woman who had appeared from the treeline. She lifted her head, revealing a pair of bright, grey eyes. Her hair was grey as well, and pulled back into a tidy bun. Her clothes were well-made. A black skirt hung down nearly to her ankles and she wore a red shirt. A satchel was thrown over one shoulder and several pouches hung from her belt.

She was regarding them curiously. That was Thane's first indication that something was wrong. Most people were at least put-off by the presence of a dragon. This woman was watching them as calmly as if she had seen Thane out walking his dog.

The second indication came in the form of a hiss from Evaríncel. "Thane . . . I can't smell her."

_What?_

"I can see her standing there as clearly as you. But I can't smell her. There's no scent at all. Almost as if she isn't there."

She was most certainly there. Thane could see stalks of grass bending beneath her feet. A butterfly averted its course at the last moment to narrowly avoid flitting into her. A leaf, swirling on the breeze, brushed against her calf as it spun toward the ground.

Deciding that he had best take charge of the situation, Thane bowed slightly, "We are well met."

She returned the smile, giving him a small courtesy, "Well met indeed, Dragon Rider."

As he reached out with his mind, intending to sense her intention, he continued, "These mountains are treacherous. What business would such a fair lady as yourself have alone in their depths?" Much to his surprise, he met a solid wall of resistance.

Her smile didn't waver as she gestured toward the satchel, "I am an herbalist by trade. These mountains and cliffs boast many rare herbs that cannot be found elsewhere."

"Something doesn't feel right." Evaríncel growled, his tail twitching as he regarded the woman with increasing mistrust.

_Is there anyone in the area that we can contact?_

A pause and then, "Gintare is on the very edge of contact. I don't know how clear any communication will be."

_Send what you can. I've got a bad feeling about this. _

Almost as he was thinking the words, the woman's smile broadened. "There is no need. I require only one dragon and rider. You will do nicely, Thane, son of Fiachre." The string of curses that both Thane and Evaríncel muttered overlapped in their minds. Thane drew Kveykva as the white dragon flared his wings and bared his fangs. The Sorceress laughed. "Well, what will you do child? Decide quickly, there is little time." She turned on heel and retreated back into the treeline.

_We have to go after her._

"Are you mad?" Evaríncel roared, lashing his tail from side to side. "It's a trap."

_Of course it's a trap. But we can't just let her go. _

"Better that than to run blindly into danger."

_Think about it. _Thane urged his partner. _She knew the Riders were here. She knew we were coming. If we wait too long, she'll go to ground and we will never find her. Our only option is to follow and try to spring the trap. _

"That sort of plan only works if you have abilities or powers your enemy doesn't anticipate."

_She can't know everything we will do. Did you send the message to Gintare?_

"Yes. She and Tarehlak are heading this way as quickly as they can."

_Then all we have to do is hold out until they get here. If we can draw this out long enough, we can force her to stand and fight until they arrive. If we wait, she'll just go into hiding. _

His partner's tail continued to thrash. "I don't like this. The risk is too great."

_Evaríncel we are dragon and rider. Our lives will always be full of risk. But this was the mission we were sent out here for. We can't just give up. _When the dragon didn't respond, Thane said, _You may stay if you wish. But I will pursue her. _

Evaríncel growled low in his throat and clawed the ground, gouging out long gashes in the soft earth. "I will come, but we rush into folly."

Thane nodded, sprinting off in the direction the woman had retreated. The trail was so clear that there was little doubt she intended for him to follow. As he went, he quickly reviewed the wards that he had placed around himself and Evaríncel. They weren't numerous, but they should protect them from the most obvious attacks. That done, he took stock of his energy stores. The diamond in Kveykva's hilt had a significant amount of energy within it. He also wore a ring on his right hand in which he had been saving energy since he was much young. Lastly, the pendant around his neck also contained enough energy to cast a substantial number of spells. Would it be enough? He hoped so.

He knew this was stupid, even as he plunged through the underbrush, but there was little he could do. If she escaped now, there would be little chance of locating her, and Thane had no intention of being the one who let such a significant threat walk free. But even that determination didn't completely rid him of the fear that gnawed at the back of his mind. He had no idea what he was up against. For her to sneak up not only on him, but on Evaríncel as well, she must possess very powerful cloaking magic. But he didn't need to defeat her, he just needed to delay her long enough for Tarehlak and Gintare to arrive. They were two of the oldest and most powerful members of the order. Surely they would be a match for her, even if he and Evaríncel were not.

"Thane stop!"

Evaríncel's warning came a moment too late. Thane broke through the treeline and into a sunlit clearing. For a moment, he was blinded by the sudden light. Then he saw the Sorceress standing just ahead of him. Before her was a ring of strange, purple crystals nearly twenty meters wide. The nearest was only a foot ahead of him. Thane tried to stop, tried to turn aside, but his momentum carried him within the circle. A heavy weight settled over him, as if someone had tossed a blanket of iron over his shoulders. He crashed to the ground, mid-stride.

Evaríncel skidded to a halt behind him, barely managing to remain outside the boundaries of the circle. His furious eyes fixed on the woman and Thane saw his muscles tense as he prepared to spring.

"Attack me, and I kill your rider." The words were clear and calm. The Sorceress was staring at Evaríncel as if he were a particularly interesting species of deer. There was curiosity on her face, but no fear. The white dragon snarled, but his muscles relaxed somewhat. Thane tried to reach out and contact him, but found that he couldn't. There was a stifling pressure against his mind that he couldn't break. It was as if someone had put walls around him that he couldn't reach beyond.

The Sorceress shook her head. "Really, I'd expected more of you. This is the same way that Eragon and Arya got caught beneath Dras Leona. I would have thought that he might have warned you about such traps. It's quite disappointing actually." Then she sighed, "No matter." Returning her attention to the dragon, she lifted her hand and spoke several, rapid phrases in the Ancient Language. Evaríncel screamed and Thane could only watch in horror as every muscle of the dragon's body tightened painfully. When the incantation finally ceased, the white dragon stood, rooted to the spot. Every fiber of his body was stretched taunt, locking him in place.

Thane could only glare at her as his mind raced. The situation was bad, but not all was lost. There was still the chance he could stall her. Evaríncel might be in pain, but the spell didn't look as though it was intended to take his life. No doubt, she intended to kill them both, eventually, but right now, they were helpless. They posed no threat to her. It occurred to Thane that this might work to their advantage. Raising his voice, he shouted, "What did you do to him?"

The woman smiled at Thane. "Dragon Riders are always learning, right? Well, here is my lesson for you. What does it take to hold a creature in place? A spell of binding? A ring of crystals? No. Every muscle in our body responds to tiny, electrical impulses. When these impulses cease to function properly, such as when one is dehydrated, they fire differently, and the muscle cramps. So all it takes to immobilize a being is to cause a misfire in all the major muscles simultaneously. Minimal energy, maximum effect. Clever isn't it?" She looked positively delighted with herself.

For the first time since he had first seen her, Thane felt a small measure of control. He had met many such people in his life. They loved their creations and achievements so much that those very things became their weaknesses. He needed to keep her talking, and he might have just found the right way to go about it. Praying that Evaríncel would be alright, Thane growled. "That can't be true. Electricity hurts us. It can't exist inside our bodies."

The woman shook her head. "Ah, but they do. Did the elves never tell you? Of course they didn't. They love to keep their knowledge to themselves, the elves. The Riders were the same way I hear. Every time they learned something new, they hoarded the knowledge for themselves beneath the guise of wisdom and authority. But what paltry advancements in science those were. The elves may not be terribly clever, but even they can make advances when they have an infinite amount of time to do so. But they have no vision, Thane, no vision at all. They waist their endless lives trying to understand obscure bits of magic that possess very little practical application. They shy away from the deepest branches of magic. They fear their power, and the sacrifices that must be made to delve into the greatest mysteries this life has to offer." She was speaking faster and more animatedly now, her eyes widening.

Evaríncel let out a low moan of pain and Thane glanced sideways at him, his heart aching for his partner. _Hold on. _He thought, knowing the dragon couldn't hear him. _We have to keep her here. We have to keep her talking until Gintare can get here._ But how long would that take? Thane had assumed they would at least be able to hold her up for twenty minutes to a half hour. He hadn't planned on being captured in such a way.

Returning his attention to the woman, he spoke again. "Some mysteries are better left unsolved. There are some branches of magic that are evil. They should never be practiced."

"That depends very much on your point of view." She said softly. "Take your father. To him, as to his ancestor Nasuada, the ability to read another's mind was considered evil. They regarded those who used magic with fear and mistrust for that reason. But the ability to read someone's mind is not evil on its own. If I use magic to kill a dwarf guard, they call it an evil deed. If you use magic to kill a slaver, they call it a noble act. Both are murder, so why is one evil and the other noble? It is because they are viewed differently." A manic gleam had crept into her eyes and Thane realized that it might be folly to continue down this path of conversation.

He had begun to cast about for another topic when she began to speak again. "Take, for example, the creation of life. The elves create new species every day. Their magic alters the plants and animals in their forest, changing their forms, functions, and personalities. They see this as a good and revel in their abilities. Yet when I create a new species, they cry witch and abomination." Her brow furrowed as a scowl touched her face. "I did not make the life, just as they do not make the seeds they grow. I merely shaped it, adding to it and removing that which I felt was imperfect. The methodology is the same, whether the creature is plant or animal. And yet, from the beginning, the world did its best to destroy my creation."

The insane look in her eyes flared brighter as she continued. "Years and years of planning and experimenting and researching, and they would have destroyed it. The elves, the dwarves, and the humans all conspired to destroy what I had made." Her eyes flickered over Evaríncel for a moment before returning to Thane. "But it was you . . . you who finally did it . . ." Her face contorted with fury. "Your order finally succeeded in destroying my prize. You took my beloved creation, and decimated it."

_She's insane. _Those were the only words that Thane could think. Over and over again, they echoed in his head as he stared with growing terror at the woman who stood before him. Her handsome features had twisted so that they now appeared ghoulish. This was the one thing he hadn't planned for. All the tales of the Sorceress painted her as a clever, cunning figure, always outwitting or killing her pursuers. The woman who stood before him now looked positively mad.

Then she seemed to hesitate. Her body shivered and she lifted a hand to her face. When she removed it, her expression had cleared. She now stared at him with a calmness that was equally as terrifying as her hysteria had been. The change was profound and deeply disturbing. In a low voice, she said, "My apologies. I got somewhat carried away, as you no doubt intended." She was silent for a moment as she studied him. "No doubt, you thought to stall me until another member of your order could come to your rescue. However, I have no intention of waiting quite so long."

She reached down and drew a long knife out of a hidden fold in her dress. "If my information is correct, it will be necessary to kill your dragon first, lest your death provide him the strength to break my spell." A smile flickered across her face as she saw horror fall over Thane's face. "Do not worry, you will not suffer much, for you will not outlive him by long." She studied Evaríncel for a moment before she opened her mouth and began to chant rapidly.

All the air vanished from Thane's lungs. He struggled helplessly against the weight that pressed down on him. He could see his partner fighting to break her spell that held him in place. But neither could move. _Evaríncel!_ He screamed the name in his mind over and over again. _Evaríncel! Evaríncel!_ This was it. Despair shot through Thane as he realized that his stupidity had killed them both. They would die here and the Sorceress would still escape. They had failed. He had failed.

Then the world darkened as a massive shadow fell over them. A heartbeat later, Thane jerked as a torrent of blackness engulfed the Sorceress. The heat beat against his skin like a physical force, stinging his exposed face and arms. But he could not move to escape the inferno, which he only then realized was actually . . . _Fire! _ Only then was he aware of the small, dark figure who was plummeting to earth some six yards to his right. It was only visible out of the corner of his eye, but, he couldn't fail to recognize the white mane that trailed behind it like a pennant. Fear gripped him and he cried, "Keres watch . . ."

His words were drowned out as she barked out a single word mere seconds before she hit the ground. "Skraván!"


	57. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

Keres had expected Skraván to slice cleanly through the crystal, as it had with every item she'd invoked its power against. It was, therefore, somewhat of a surprise when the gem exploded the moment her sword made contact. There was a flash of bright, purple light that blurred everything. A wave of heat gushed over her as if she had been thrust headlong into a forge. She felt her wards drawing on her strength with prodigious speed. The loss was so great that she was forced to end several of them almost instantaneously. The force of the blow snapped her arms back as Skraván was deflected and she couldn't stifle a cry of pain as her right shoulder popped out of joint. At the same moment, several points of searing pain blossomed on her legs, sending the sensation shooting up her limbs.

The black sword was yanked from her fingers as she was flung backward. Air whooshed out of her lungs in a single gasp, as if she had been kicked by a dragon. The world spun momentarily as she flew through the air, and then the ground rushed up to meet her. Her vision flickered and dimmed and she tasted blood. From a long distance, she heard Vikonyx scream her name.

Darkness was swirling at the edges of her vision; a rising tide that was straining to engulf her. She wanted, with every fiber of her being, to surrender to it. Detached as she felt from her body, she could still sense the waves of agony that rolled through her. But she must not lose consciousness. She had rushed all this way for this very moment. She had come here to ensure that her fellow Riders survived this encounter, and her task was not yet done.

Clawing her way back to consciousness, she felt the touch of Vikonyx's armored muzzle against her cheek. Keres groaned as the feeling of pain increased exponentially. Opening her eyes, she moaned, "Is it as bad as it feels?" When her partner hesitated, Keres cursed, "No, don't tell me."

A gust of wind washed over her, smelling of burnt meat and hair as the dragon spoke. "Can you stand?"

Answering inside her mind, Keres said, _Does it matter? I have to. _

With her right arm dislocated, she focused all of her energy into lifting herself to her knees with her remaining, good arm. As her vision began to clear, she saw the source of the agony in her legs. Several shards of broken crystal had embedded themselves deep in the muscles. With a jolt, she realized that they must have gone straight through her wards. From the looks of them, several were more than an inch into her flesh. Nausea welled up inside of her, but she forced it away. She had to move.

From somewhere ahead of her, she heard the Sorceress sigh. "I've always heard that children love meddling in the affairs of their parents. I'd hoped it wouldn't be true for me, but I should've guessed it would be unavoidable."

It took a monumental effort, but finally, she was on her feet. The sudden shift in position made her aware of several cuts along her face and arms as blood began to trickle down her skin. Vikonyx was crouched over her, snarling furiously at the woman they had rushed here to face. Keres couldn't help but feel a flash of warmth as she saw that Thane and Evaríncel had placed themselves between her and the Sorceress. A flash of light off steel caught her attention and she saw her sword laying on the ground a few feet away. It looked unscathed by the beating it had just been subjected to. Taking a few, slow steps, Keres grasped the hilt with her left hand raised Skraván.

"Is she alright?" Thane's voice broke the relative silence as he called back to Vikonyx.

Keres limped to his side, moving until she was certain he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She could have used a spell to relocate the arm, but her magic reserves were depleted as it was. Had it not been for her wards, she felt certain that the initial impact of the crystal breaking would have killed her. As it was, she busied herself fortifying her strength with stored energy from the gem in Skraván's hilt and the amulet around her neck. At the same time, she tried to remember what Eragon had told her about putting joints back in socket. Roran, his cousin, had received a similar injury during the assault on Ilirea. Clenching her fist, she set her arm against her side and began to rotate as best she could. A fresh wave of agony blazed through her as she heard a soft snick and felt the bone slide back into place. She gritted her teeth, moaning with the pain as she doubled over and closed her eyes. Her jaws parted in a silent scream before she regained control of herself.

Thane moved as if to put a hand on her shoulder, then appeared to think better of it. "Are you alright?"

The question struck her as funny. "I've been worse." She opened her eyes to look at him as she winced, "I've also been better."

Her attempt at humor was clearly not what he had expected, and the ghost of a smile flickered across his face. Then, for the first time, she allowed herself to look directly at the woman who stood before them. Her mother's hair was grey now, instead of silky black. The color matched her eyes, which were currently fixed on Keres with a look of mingled disgust and interest. Much to Keres' surprise, the woman didn't look much different than the young girl remembered her. She would have thought that fifteen years would have aged her significantly, but that was not the case. Indeed, excepting the hair, the Sorceress didn't look a day older than she had when Keres had last seen her.

The woman tutted, "Now, now Keres, such a fierce scowl is no way to greet your mother after all these years."

After everything she had endured, after all the struggles and trials that she had faced to get her to this moment, Keres had expected to be furious, and she was. She was livid. But it was a cold, steely anger that fortified her resolve. It was as if her mind had always been clouded, when considering this woman and the part she had played in Keres' life. Now, the illusions and misconceptions had fallen away, leaving nothing but the truth. Keres' lip curled derisively. "You may have birthed me, but you have done nothing else to earn that title. Do not speak that word again, you demean it."

"Hoho!" The Sorceress laughed, a mocking smile spreading across her face, "It appears that the kitten has finally grown some claws. But you still need to learn how to use them. For the fact remains, I am your mother and you are my daughter. But I digress. It has been so long since we have seen each other. Come, give your mother a hug child."

"She's goading you." Vikonyx hissed. "Ignore her."

_I know that. _Keres snapped, a bit more harshly than she had intended. Trying to soften her tone, she asked, _Can you contact Evaríncel? _Keres didn't dare try to touch Thane's mind. She couldn't risk provoking the Sorceress into a mental assault. However, she thought the dragons would likely be okay. If you didn't understand how a dragon's mind worked, it was difficult to even breach their defenses.

"I can."

_Have him tell Thane to get ready. I'll rush her and see if I can't put her on the defensive. We'll need to hit her as hard as we can. If we can't at least distract her, I probably won't last more than a few minutes. _

"You do know he's likely to protest?"

_If he can fight with his sword and his mind, then by all means let him join me. But make sure his wards are up. We rushed all this way to save him. Tell him if he dies I will be rather irritated. _

She made to take a step forward, but was stopped when Thane barred her way with an arm. She gave him a questioning look and he spoke softly. "Let me. Keep moving with those things in your legs and they may not be able to fix you. Magic doesn't affect them, remember?" He gave a wry smile, "Just try and keep me from getting blasted to smithereens, okay? My wards are good, but my reflexes aren't quite on your level."

Keres had opened her mouth to argue, but a fresh wave of pain from her injured legs stopped her. He was right. Tightening her jaw, she nodded. What he had just asked of her was simultaneously easier and more difficult than her original plan. On one hand, she could carefully watch the Sorceress for any indication of what her next move would be. On the other, she would also have to try and anticipate Thane's movements to protect him from any spells the older woman might unleash. The only thing in her favor was that, distracted as she would be with the mental struggle that was about to ensue, she would be acting purely on instinct to protect Thane, which was when she did her best work.

She felt the minds of Evaríncel and Thane pressing against her own and she warily admitted them. The white dragon's mind was clear and bright, but razor sharp. Each of his thoughts was keen and well directed. Thane's mind was . . . strange. He his thoughts were methodical and logical, but he was possessed of a melancholy that she hadn't encountered in the mind of a human before. All of this transpired in a matter of seconds before she turned to glare at the Sorceress again. They would need a little bit of time to ready themselves for the fight.

Raising her voice, Keres spoke. "You've been in hiding for quite some time now. We'd almost lost track of you. Why show yourself now?"

"Almost? Don't flatter yourself dear. Neither the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the mighty Dragon Riders knew where I was. Losing you hit me quite hard. I will admit that freely. It took quite some time before I was able to recuperate from the loss." A look of sorrow flitted across her face before vanishing once again. "As for my reappearance, suffice to say I had unfinished experiments to attend to. You can't let one mishap stand in the way of progress. That's something for you to remember."

Through their link, Keres could feel Thane mustering his wards, preparing to lunge into battle. "I'm afraid your loss barely phased me at all." She said shrugging. "I found freedom preferable to servitude."

"Servitude?" The Sorceress scoffed. "Please, you did as you wished. You were never forced to do anything."

"Maybe. But I did as I was taught. I didn't know there was any other way of living or behaving. I was bound as surely as if you had used chains or mind manipulation." A cold edge crept into her voice as Keres spoke. Half-buried feelings pushed their way to the fore. Guilt, regret, and shame all battled for her attention as the few memories she had of life before Vikonyx flashed through her mind.

"Even so," The woman replied calmly, "you enjoyed our lessons. To some extent, all creatures enjoy causing pain to lesser beings. There is power, in the ability to cause pain. And power is the one thing sought by every living creature."

"Keres is a good person." Thane growled, "She is a credit to our order, and to her master." In her mind, Keres heard him whisper, "We are ready. Steel yourselves."

"Boy, if Eragon and his elders had told you half of what this girl did in her childhood, you would not say so." The amused derision in her voice sent a prickle of anger through Vikonyx and the dragon hissed, lashing her tail angrily.

"Whatever she did while under your tutelage doesn't matter." He answered coolly. "She has learned better, and she has become a woman worthy of being a Dragon Rider."

As Thane spoke, Keres took the brief opportunity to cast a few, rudimentary healing spells on the worst of her injuries. The cut above her eye, which was shallow, closed seamlessly, as did several along her arms and legs. She dared not touch her injured shoulder. Her knowledge of anatomy was solid, but under such duress, she didn't trust herself to cast the complex spell needed to restore the muscles and tendons. That would have to wait until she could find a healer skilled enough to mend the current damage without causing any more. She also avoided tampering with the shards embedded in her legs. A cursory attempt at healing had already shown her that her magic had no effect on the purple slivers of gemstone. They would have to be removed by hand before any real healing could be attempted. She could have extracted them easily enough, but she could already feel their jagged edges shredding the muscles beneath her skin. She couldn't risk incapacitating herself by trying to hurriedly remove them.

"Your leader is a fool." Venom suddenly suffused the Sorceress' voice as she snapped, "He was handed the greatest weapon mankind has ever known, a weapon greater even than the one he created for the war against Galbatorix, and he squandered it!"

_Careful. _Keres warned. _Her moods are erratic, but she is no less dangerous regardless of which extreme she's at. Angry, she's prone to blast whatever's in her way. Cold, she's cunning and manipulative. _

"In short," Evaríncel growled, "the worst kind of enemy."

_Exactly._

She felt sure her mother knew they were stalling, but that did not matter. All that mattered was that she could feel a measure of Vikonyx's energy pouring into her, bolstering her flagging strength. And now she was ready. Sending the thought to all of her companions, she spoke again to the woman who stood opposite them. "Or, perhaps, Eragon turned me into something you can't control, and that frightens you."

She must have said the magic word, because the Sorceress' face reddened with anger. "You dare . . ."

_Now!_

Keres, Vikonyx, Thane, and Evaríncel launched their collective consciousness at the mind of the Sorceress. At the same moment, the two dragons sent streams of fire hurtling at the woman, trying to impede her vision while Thane moved forward to attack. Keres gasped as she reached the woman's mental barriers and found them covered in barbed spines. It was a defense such as she had never encountered before. To even get at the wall surrounding the Sorceress' mind, she would have to fight through the pain of the mental spikes. Gritting her teeth, Keres resumed her attack, honing her thoughts into as fine a point as possible and ramming it into the barriers around the woman's mind.

Thane, meanwhile, had reached the spot where the Sorceress stood just as the dragons had ceased their fiery assault. For a moment, Keres dared to hope that Thane would run her through with his first strike, but, quick as a striking snake, the woman raised her dagger and parried the blow. Thane struck at her again and again the knife came up to block the killing blow. The rhythmic clash of steel on steel filled the air as Keres continued her assault on the mind of the Sorceress. They were playing a very dangerous game. Traditionally, in a duel between magic users, both refrained from using magic until one had dominated the mind of the other. It was the best way to ensure that at least one of them survived the fight. However, with an opponent like this, Keres couldn't be sure that the older woman might not resort to her spells. She might be confident enough that Keres couldn't bypass her wards to attempt to kill Thane.

However, Keres did feel certain about one thing: her mother would make no attempt on her life. She would try to preserve Keres as long as possible in the hopes that the young rider might still be salvageable as a "weapon." This meant that Keres could focus most of her energy on protecting Thane, who was in the position of most danger. For a few minutes, nothing changed. Thane and the Sorceress exchanged blow after blow, neither able to gain an advantage over the other. Meanwhile, the two dragons and Keres continued their mental attack, searching for even the smallest weakness that they could exploit. Seconds dragged on into minutes as the two battles, one silent and one noisy, raged within the clearing. Both Thane and the Sorceress managed to slip a few strikes past their opponent's guard, but each time, their wards halted the blades inches from their skin.

And then came the break. Thane, whose white blade was locked with the dagger the Sorceress held, released the hilt with his right and swung his fist toward her face. Incredibly, miraculously, her wards did not stop it. A dull crunch sounded around the clearing as his hand made contact with her face and blood spurted from her nose. The shock of it showed on his face as he flinched backward.

But Keres did not hesitate. The faintest of cracks had appeared in the Sorceress' mental barriers and Keres capitalized on it. Together with Evaríncel and Vikonyx, she jammed her mental ray into the crack and began to push with all her might. The effect was instant and the woman shrieked, launching a kick that caught Thane in the stomach and pushed him back. She brought her hand up and barked a torrent of words in the Ancient Language. A ball of silver flame coalesced in her hand and, with a deft motion, she hurled it straight into Thane's face. Keres saw fear in his eyes as he looked up from where he had fallen.

The fireball hurtled toward him, and, in a last-ditch effort, brought his sword up as if to block the ball of energy. In a move that was faster even than thought, Keres lifted her right hand and barked, "Néi!" It was, perhaps, the simplest spell she had ever cast, nothing more than a denial of what was about to occur. Yet somehow, it worked. She had given no structure to the command, and had no idea what she wanted to happen. All she knew was that she could not let that blast of fire strike Thane. At the last second, the fireball veered off course, tousling his black hair. He blinked, glancing over at her with a startled expression.

The momentary lapse in concentration was enough for the Sorceress to force Keres back, out of the crack in her mental armor. "Enough!" The woman screamed, blood streaming down her face from her shattered nose. With the shout came a blast of energy that started at her feet and rushed outward like a shockwave. Thane, who was already on the ground, was tumbled backward several feet as Keres was blasted backward. Even Vikonyx and Evaríncel staggered as the wave hit them. Then, the shockwave vanished, leaving the clearing in a tense, stunned silence.

The Sorceress turned her head to look at Keres. Raising a shaking finger, she shrieked, "You are ungrateful!" She took a step forward, blood dribbling from her chin and flying from her lips. "It was I who gave you life. I who gave you the form you wear, the power you wield, and the name you carry. Everything you are, you owe to me!" She seemed to be working herself into something. "You were stolen! STOLEN! But you belong with me! You belong to me!"

Then came the pain. It was pain such as Keres had never felt before in her life. It radiated from the base of her spine, flaring outward in jagged lines that enveloped her entire body. She screamed, doubling over and clutching both sides of her head as the world flashed white around her. It took a few seconds before Keres could even identify the source of the pain as a bolt of mental lighting that was driving itself into the very core of her consciousness. Voices yelled inside her head, but she couldn't understand them. And then a new voice, a serpentine voice that hissed within her mind. "Yield"

The pain was so great that she could not formulate a coherent thought, only shook her head, groaning as the motion seemed to increase the pain in her skull.

Again the voice whispered, "Yield."

This time, in spite of the agony, words came to her. _I will not._

"Yield"

_No!_

"Yield to me."

"I WON'T!" This time the word issued from her mouth, and with them, the pain receded. It left her shaking and sweating, but she was still on her feet. She lifted her head, her chest heaving, to face the woman who was eyeing her with utter fury. "I will not yield. Not to you. You cannot make me." Her trembling fingers found Skraván's hilt as she growled. "Whether by fate or by magic, you've outbred yourself. If it was a weapon you sought, then rejoice, you have created one. But you let it fall from your grasp, and now it turns on you." Keres straightened up, a furious snarl distorting her features as her lips pulled back and she bared her teeth like a wild animal.

Speaking aloud in the Ancient Language, she spread her arms wide and snarled. "Look at me, you who would call yourself my mother. Look at me and see your doom. For I swear I will oppose you with every fiber of my being. In every way, in all things, I set myself against you." She lifted Skraván with a shaking limb and pointed it directly at the older woman, glaring down the glistening length of the blade. "And when the time comes for you to die, be it in 5 years, 50 years, or 500 years, I will be there. And it will be by my hand that you will fall." Her voice rose in volume as she thundered the final words. "Thornessa eka hávr itmaela! Ond valí ja waíse!" This I have pledged. So shall it be.

They fell with the weight of a thunderclap, crashing over their surroundings until the very mountains rang with her declaration. Vikonyx punctuated the statement with a fierce, challenging roar that shook the ground. The look on the Sorceress' face had sank into something beyond fury. It was pure loathing. Keres had made her vow. Now, whether she wanted to recant or not, there was no way to do so. They were now sworn enemies until the day one of them ceased drawing breath. It was a rash move, and perhaps ill considered, but Keres did not care. Somehow, in the very core of her being, she knew that their relationship could end no other way. This was her burden to bear and she would carry it until she killed this woman, or was killed herself.

For a moment longer, the woman glared at her, then she lifted her hands in front of her chest and began to chant. Keres couldn't understand most of the words, but the general gist of the spell was clear enough. A column of silver light appeared around the Sorceress, starting on the ground at her feet and rising upward. Both dragons loosed jets of bright flame that angled off harmlessly at the woman's wards protected her. Thane was moving to, sprinting toward the woman with his white blade held high. But he would never reach her in time.

Keres spoke as quickly as she could, stringing the words together as they entered her mind. She was barely aware of the spell she was weaving. All she knew was that she wanted to get to this woman before she could escape. Keres wanted to reach her, hurt her. This woman had harmed Thane and Evaríncel. She had harmed many people, and worse, she had done so in front of Keres. She was the source of almost every pain that Keres had endured in the last few years. She had tried to steal Keres' freedom from her. She must not escape.

The ground fell away beneath her as Keres rushed forward, aided by her magic. The world slowed around her. The swaying of the grass and trees seemed to pause between each motion. But the pain . . . Keres had never imagined such pain. Her limbs felt as if they had suddenly doubled in weight. Every tear, every cut, every bruise felt as though someone was driving huge needles into her body. But that did not matter. None of it mattered except that she reach the Sorceress. She had to reach her mother and make her pay for causing so much pain.

Then they were face to face. The young girl couldn't help but relish the look of surprise on the older woman's face. Forcing her arms and legs to move, Keres brought her sword down in a sweeping arch, even as the woman, as if in slow motion, threw up an arm to shield herself. A column of silver light erupted around the Sorceress. It stretched into the sky even as Skraván completed its deadly strike. The resistance she had expected never came, and she barely managed to keep her feet as she rushed straight through the bright pillar. For a moment, she felt a sense of numb disbelief. She had failed.

But had she? As she looked down at the blade in her hand, she saw a smear of blood across the edge. It dripped down to the point and fell into the grass, staining the emerald carpet scarlet. A soft thump came from somewhere behind her and she turned so sharply that spots swam before her eyes. There, nestled in the midst of a growing crimson puddle, was a severed had. The wrist was still attached, but the bones of the forearm had been sliced so cleanly that even the layers of fat beneath the skin were visible.

Keres had expected to feel triumphant. Instead, she doubled over and vomited, her sides and chest heaving as her stomach emptied its contents onto the ground. Her legs trembled and gave way, and she only narrowly managed to avoid falling into the pool of sick. Instead, she crashed awkwardly on her side, her sword falling from her numb fingers. Her head struck the ground, and though it was covered in soft grass, it may as well have been stone. Everything went fuzzy as spots of darkness once again began to grow on her field of vision. The world flickered around her as Keres desperately tried to remain conscious. Her shoulder felt as though someone had jammed hot knives into the joint. She was pretty sure that the muscle along her right forearm had been torn. At least three of the shards of crystal in her legs had opened lacerations around their sharper edges. All in all, she had made quite a mess of herself.

Disjointed sounds came to her as if from a long ways away. She was vaguely aware of Vikonyx speaking to her, but the words were as gibberish. The pain ebbed from her body in a wave that began at her head and swept down to her toes. She felt like she was floating in an ocean of cool water. Then she was sinking. The water closed over her head. She shut her eyes and fell into darkness.

* * *

As always, thanks to all my readers for the questions and comments. All of the feedback is really appreciated. Please be aware that the post for next week may not be available until the 21st. If this is the case, there will still be a new post by the 26th. Thanks again!


	58. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

Thane stared silently at the door, wondering for about the thousandth time that day when it would open. By the time he had contacted Tarehlak and Gintare after the battle, Keres had slipped into unconsciousness. He had wasted no time in pulling her onto Evaríncel's back and rushing her to the nearest city. The white dragon had flown as smoothly as he could, but he hadn't been able to keep Keres from flopping like a ragdoll. With each motion, blood seeped out from around the jagged crystal edges. Vikonyx had been beside herself with worry flying just above them so she could keep an eye on her partner. It occurred to Thane that, had anyone other than a Dragon Rider tried to help Keres, the black dragon might have burned them out of existence.

Luckily, the newly renovated city of Orthíad wasn't terribly far away. The city had lain empty after the completion of Tronjheim for many years. One said to be the greatest of all dwarf cities, the massive, hidden base had fallen into disrepair until the beginning of the Rider War, when Galbatorix re-discovered it and converted the dwarf city into a camp for his urgal host. Under the name Ithrö Zhâda, the city had seen nominal repairs to make it into a functioning garrison again. Perhaps it was the indignation of Galbatorix claiming such an old dwarven city, or perhaps it was a desire to avoid being attacked in such a way again, but the dwarves had reclaimed the city not long after the fall of the tyrant-king.

Given over to the rule of Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn, the city had received extensive renovation. Though old, the stone used to build the city had proven strong, and many of the buildings had been easily repaired. It was now a wonder of stonework, though Thane had privately thought that its glory paled in comparison to Tronjheim. Orthíad harkened back to an earlier era in the dwarves history. Though intricately carved and decorated with color stone, the focus had been on functionality. This suited the War Wolves just fine, and they had settled into the wall-built structure almost immediately. They had even gone so far as to add a massive arena and fighting pit to the city. Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn regularly held tournaments within the pit, including a celebration they held once a year in which the greatest warriors of each clan were called to come and compete.

It had been early evening when Evaríncel had touched down just outside the walls of the city. A representative had hurried out to meet them, arriving just as Thane was gently pulling Keres down from the saddle. It was obvious from the beginning that the dwarf, who identified himself as Volgon, knew exactly who and what he was dealing with. However, despite his obvious distaste, he had quickly led Thane into the city, though the winding maze of houses, and to a large building of pinkish stone. This, Thane had gathered, was the house of healing.

Initially, their healers had been loath to treat Keres, despite her status as a Dragon Rider. However, it was very difficult to argue with an angry dragon, and they had viewed Vikonyx as enough of a threat that they had eventually decided to help. The black dragon's promise to demolish their fields and flocks if they refused had been a powerful motivator. Ultimately, it had been the intervention of the leader of Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn, a beautiful dwarf woman called Íorûnn, which had convinced the dwarves to care for Keres. Thane had not been privy to the exchange, but he had gathered that some sort of retribution had been promised if Keres should die. So, grudgingly, the healers had set to work on the unconscious girl. They had started at sundown on the previous day. Now it was well into the next morning and still no word had come out of that closed room. Tarehlak had been allowed in as a representative of the Riders, but the only other people who had been permitted to enter the room were the three dwarf spellcasters who were working as healers.

As the dwarf city had not been built to accommodate dragons, Evaríncel had gone off to hunt in the mountains. It had taken some convincing to get Vikonyx to accompany him, but Thane had finally managed it. There was nothing Vikonyx could do to help Keres now. The two dragons had taken off at first light, but only if Thane swore to contact them if there were any changes. Personally, Thane hadn't thought her injures were life-threatening, but the amount of time the healing had taken was beginning to worry him. He hadn't left the corridor since Keres was admitted, instead waiting in one of the wooden chairs just outside the door. His bloodstained clothes had attracted some curious glances from several of the dwarves that passed, but most had contented themselves to nodding and murmuring, "Argetlam."

Finally, the door to the room opened. Two of the three healers emerged, both looking pale and shaky. Behind them came Tarehlak, his bearded face contorted in a scowl. Thane jumped to his feet, wincing as his stiff muscles cramped.

"How is she?"

"Better than she was." Came the terse response. Then Tarehlak sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The internal injuries were worse than we expected. A punctured lung, several broken ribs, and Guntera knows how many torn muscles and contusions. And then those crystals . . ." He shuddered as he broke off. "I've never seen their like. Neither had any of the others. We've just sent two of the shards for study, but it will be some time before we hear back. For some time after we removed them, the holes wouldn't heal. It's only been in the last few hours we were able to repair her legs."

Thane's breath caught in his throat. "She'll be alright, won't she?"

"Aye, she'll survive. We mended what we could. She's resting comfortably now." He blinked, turning a critical eye on Thane. "You look like you could use some rest yourself."

Thane glanced down at his clothes. "It's her blood, not mine. I barely got so much as a scratch thanks to her."

The dwarf eyed him thoughtfully, "What on earth would possess you to give chase like that, knowing who you were up against?"

"I couldn't just let her escape." Thane said indignantly. "We've been searching for so long, and I'd finally found the Sorceress. Are you telling me that you wouldn't have pursued her?"

"That's different." Tarehlak said gruffly, "I'm quite a bit older than you. I'm also quite a bit stronger, and, judging from what I've gathered about what happened, quite a bit more intelligent." He scowled, "Rushing headlong after her was a stupid mistake. I won't even say a rookie mistake, because then it sounds like I'm excusing the blunder based on your lack of experience."

"You sent me after her!" Thane could feel hot anger and resentment rising in his chest. "You included me in the search! What did you expect me to do?"

"You don't honestly think we'd have done that if we honestly thought you'd be the one to find her, do you?" The dwarf snapped. "We sent you and Ethrunor in those directions because we thought they'd be the least likely to lead you into any danger."

The words broke over Thane like a wave. For a moment, he stared, stunned, at the elder Rider. He was a Dragon Rider. He had been preparing his whole life to face danger and tackle threats in the service of the order. Now, when he had just managed to escape one of the most terrifying experiences of his life, he was being told that the Riders had tried to coddle him on this mission. In a quiet, barely controlled voice, he said, "So . . . why was I sent at all?"

Tarehlak uttered a soft dwarven curse. "Don't you have the sense you were born with? We don't have the manpower to handle situations like these with kid gloves. As much as we might like to keep you younglings out of harm's way, we don't have enough Riders to do that all the time. We send senior riders when we can. If we can't, we send the junior rider most suited to the task. We didn't want to include you or Ethrunor in the search at all, but the sheer size of the area demanded it. So we sent you to the two places we thought would be the safest."

"Well, mine didn't turn out to be very safe, did it?" Thane retorted.

"ENOUGH!" The rumbling voice boomed like a rockslide in Thane's mind and he flinched. Across from him, Tarehlak winced slightly, jerking his head as the voice apparently spoke to him as well. "YOU TWO SIT AND BICKER LIKE CHILDREN WHILE ONE OF OUR OWN LIES INJURED. YOU SHAME YOURSELVES." It took a few seconds for Thane to realize that it was Gintare's voice he was hearing. Though he couldn't see her, he could feel the full weight of the amber dragon's disapproval in her words. But the lecture was not done. "Thane, you are angry because you feel that you were slighted. That is ridiculous. Being a leader means giving your underlings tasks that they can handle without getting themselves killed. We gave you what we thought was a task that you could manage. As you learned, you are not ready to take on such an enemy without assistance. Our decision was justified by your own actions. You have no right to feel angry since you have proven us correct in our assessment."

The invisible gaze turned on Tarehlak as Gintare continued. "And you, taking your frustration at not finding the Sorceress yourself out on a youngling is beneath you. Your frustration is understandable. I share it. However, it is not Thane's fault that he was the one to find our quarry. Moreover, you cannot fault him for attempting to follow the instructions which he was given. The task was to find and attempt to capture or defeat the Sorceress. He tried to do as he was ordered. There is no shame in that. No one could have predicted exactly where she would turn up. Turn your anger elsewhere, for Thane does not deserve your ire. Indeed, he and Keres accomplished what no one else has ever done. They dealt the Sorceress a serious wound, and supplied us with the means by which we might finally learn more about her."

There was a pause, during which Thane had the distinct impression that the old dragon was studying them both. Finally, in a softer, voice she concluded, "Take heart. The situation is not so dire as you paint it to be. Both Thane and Keres are alive, as are Evaríncel and Vikonyx. Though it may not have happened as we hoped it would, the outcome is better than even we could have hoped, given the circumstances."

The dwarf glared into the air for a moment longer before turning on heel and retreating down the hall, cursing softly to himself. He was almost out of sight when he turned and growled, "Eragon wishes you to contact him as soon as you are available." Without waiting for a response, he rounded a corner and vanished from sight, leaving Thane staring after him.

In his mind, Gintare sighed. "Don't take it personally, Thane-finiarel. You did well, all things considered." She hesitated before adding, "Tarehlak may not often show it, but he feels the weight of being one of the senior Riders very intensely. He believes that it is part of his duty to protect you younglings. At present, he feels that he has failed."

"But he didn't!" Thane said, exasperated. "There was nothing he could have done."

"Would that stop you from feeling responsible?" Came the knowing reply.

Letting out a long breath, Thane sagged back against the wall, "No, I suppose it wouldn't."

A sense of satisfaction came from Gintare and the amber dragon withdrew from his consciousness. Almost immediately, he has his mind out for his own partner. Evaríncel responded almost immediately, mingled concern and anxiety tinting the white dragon's thoughts.

"She's alright." Thane said quickly. "They've finished working on her and she's resting comfortably. There is no need to return right now, but please relay the message to Vikonyx."

Evaríncel was in the midst of acknowledging the message when heavy footsteps sounded from the direction in which Tarehlak had disappeared. Thane whirled around quickly, fingers already reaching for the hilt of his sword. To his relief, he saw the heavy-browed form of Kakirvog stomping up the stone passageway. The urgal lifted his head, baring his throat in welcome.

"Thane, it is good to see you are unharmed."

Thane smiled ruefully, "Well, relatively unharmed anyway. I trust you've heard what happened?"

The horned head bobbed in a jerky motion. "Enough. Tarehlak tells me that Keres will survive. This is good news." The yellow eyes glanced toward the door as he continued in his low rumble. "I am to sit with her and keep guard so that you may go and rest."

"Keep guard?" Thane asked in surprise. "Does he think that someone will try to harm her?"

"He believes that is a possibility."

Thane was aghast. "But she's a guest! Dwarf law prohibits anyone from harming her! The penalties for doing so are as severe as they come!"

Cocking his head, Kakirvog regarded the younger rider. "For one who would wish to harm her, those laws mean little. Do not forget how Eragon was attacked within the walls of Tronjheim." He put a heavy hand on Thane's shoulder in a gesture that nearly knocked the young man flat. "Go now. I will watch over her."

Thane winced, massaging his sore shoulder as the massive urgal ducked his head, pushed open the door, and entered the room where Keres lay. As the door shut behind him, Thane turned away and began to walk down the stone passageway. A runner had been sent him the previous night to tell him that the Dragon Riders had been given lodging in the building next door. The courtyard was large enough for their dragons to land and walk about, and the rooms were generally reserved for visiting dignitaries, such as human nobles or high-ranking members of other clans. As Thane stepped out into the sunshine, he couldn't help but release a sigh of genuine relief. Things could have turned out so badly that it really was a miracle they had all escaped with their lives. Now Keres was on the mend, Vikonyx and Evaríncel were safe, and he could finally take a well-deserved rest.

Carnelio was lounging in the courtyard when Thane entered. The red dragon looked positively exhausted. Presumably, he and Kakirvog had been flying since the previous night to get here so quickly. The red dragon raised his head, briefly acknowledged Thane, and then returned to his nap. Thane found his room easily enough and stripped off his clothes before gratefully sinking into the tub of hot water the dwarves had drawn for him. The stiffness in his muscles began to ease somewhat. When he finally emerged from the bathing area, he found that his dirty clothes had been taken away and a clean shirt and pair of breeches had been laid out in their place. He tugged the new clothes on gratefully, taking a moment to arrange his hair into a more presentable style, before moving to the large mirror that sat against the wall.

Seating himself before the dresser, Thane began to mumble the spells that he would need. For a moment, nothing happened, then the surface of the mirror began to ripple like a windblown lake. His image in it blurred, and then disappeared. The entire mirror went black for nearly a full minute as Thane sat, staring expectantly. Then, as if a curtain had been pulled back, the interior of Eragon's office came into view. The head Dragon Rider was sitting in a high backed chair.

"Thane"

Though the address was cordial enough, Thane couldn't remember seeing Eragon look so ragged. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and his hair was unkempt. Even his clothes were wrinkled and in an unusual state of disorder. On a stool next to him, a plate of food sat untouched. What had likely once been a steaming bowl of stew now looked to be ice cold. All in all, it presented a rather sad image. The young rider bowed his head to his leader, murmuring, "Ebrithil."

The older man inclined his head at the honorific before speaking. "I have heard some of what occurred from Tarehlak, but I would like to hear the full story from you. Please begin with what you were doing immediately before you made contact with the Sorceress."

Thane nodded and began to speak. It felt as though he were looking back across years to the incident, rather than back to the previous day. He quickly described how he and Evaríncel had come across the Sorceress. When he mentioned that the white dragon had been unable to smell her, he saw Eragon's brow furrow, but the older Rider did not interrupt. Thane racked his brain for every detail he could managed as he described his flight through the forest in pursuit of the woman. He had only just finished describing the crystals when Eragon raised a hand to stop him.

"Tarehlak described them to me in much the same way you did. I believe that what you encountered were gems similar to the once that trapped Arya and myself beneath Dras Leona when the servants of Hellgrind attempted to feed us to the Razak. Such crystals are extremely rare, but they can negate all magic within their border. You are fortunate that you had the sense not to use magic within them. It would only have further incapacitated you."

"If the crystals are so rare, how did the Sorceress come by so many of them?" Thane asked.

Eragon shook his head, "We can only speculate. However, Tarehlak was able to retrieve one of the unbroken crystals from the clearing. Even now, the other riders have been dispatched to collect them and transport them for study."

"Will you take them to Du Weldenvarden?"

Eragon studied the young man for a moment, as if pondering whether or not to answer. Finally, he said, "No. I wouldn't trust the dwarves with this information. Their politics would make the study of such an artifact difficult, as each clan would want their own specialist to examine it. Always, they look to get a leg up on their opponents. They already have two of the shards. Tarehlak has collected the other two. They assume he will bring them to us, as the dwarves believe them to be the only other samples. Those two shards will go to the elves for study, so it does not seem that we are playing favorites between the two. The other crystals will be transported here, to Vrenbana, for further examination by our best spellcasters of all races." Eragon's eyes narrowed, "Of course, I need not mention that this conversation should not be repeated to anyone."

Thane shook his head. "Eka weohnata neo ilerneo abr thornessa medhe onr orlof."

Eragon nodded and gestured for Thane to continue with his narrative. When Thane told of how Keres had appeared just when he had lost hope, dropping in and saving Evaríncel, he thought he saw Eragon shift forward a fraction of an inch. He had initially attempted to downplay the injuries that Keres received during the battle, but, at Eragon's urging, he delved into greater detail. He finally ended with Keres' declaration, final attack, and the hand that she had severed from her mother. When he had finished, Eragon was silent for so long that Thane wasn't certain the man intended to speak again.

In a soft voice, Thane prompted, "Sir . . . if I may?" Eragon's eyes narrowed, but he nodded for Thane to continue. Swallowing, the young Rider said, "I know that you were probably angry Keres came. You didn't intend for her to. But if she hadn't I wouldn't be here, and neither would Evaríncel. She saved my life, at great cost to herself."

Eragon sighed, running a hand over his face. "I know. That's the very reason she rushed there so quickly. Still, I wish you both had used greater caution. Both of you could have been killed. Still . . ." He paused before continuing. "You did well. You've gathered some valuable intelligence and dealt our enemy a serious wound. Moreover, you accomplished it without losing your life or getting yourself permanently injured. For such a young Rider, those are no mean feats."

Thane flushed with pride, but felt honor bound to add, "But I didn't do it alone."

"No, you didn't. Keres, too, acquitted herself well. As leader of the Dragon Riders, I commend you both on a mission well completed." His expression gentled and he added, "As a father, I thank you for the part you played in keeping my daughter alive."

Thane ducked his head, his cheeks burning from the praise. "You are most welcome."

"Now," A touch of formality re-entered Eragon's tone, "go and rest. Tarehlak will have orders for you when you awaken."

"As you say sir." Thane bowed his head and, when he lifted it again, Eragon was gone. He found himself staring into his own face. For the first time, it dawned on him how much older he looked. His face was somewhat heavier and more chiseled. The shadow of a beard coated his cheeks and chin. He was no longer a youngling. He was a man now, and a Dragon Rider who had already accomplished quite a few impressive feats. Tearing his eyes from his reflection, Thane pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He had no idea how long he would be allowed to sleep, so he wanted to make the most of his time. Crawling into the luxurious bed, he pulled the covers up to his chin and rolled on his side.

When he awoke, he would go and ask to see Keres. Maybe, if she was awake, they could talk. Yes. They could talk and he would thank her. He nodded to himself, satisfaction driving the last shreds of discontent from his mind. A smile touched his lips, and Thane slept soundly.

* * *

Eka weohnata neo ilerneo abr thornessa medhe onr orlof. – I will not speak of this without your permission.


	59. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

Chaos. Her dreams were chaos. Shadows and explosions rippled through them, along with faces and voices she barely recognized. Twisted figures writhed before her eyes, shifting forms even as she struggled to identify them. Shadowy hands reached up to grasp her before being driven back by a blinding flash of white light. Beneath a dark sky, she climbed a steep hill, reduced to crawling to reach the summit. When she finally straightened up, she saw that her hands and knees were stained with blood and what she had thought was a hill was a mound of bodies. A lone figure with a torch approached the mound and threw a torch upon the pile. The flames caught quickly and she smelled the acrid stench of burning flesh and fat as the red tongues licked greedily upward. She screamed and tried to leap off the pyre. But the motion carried her high. Too high. The darkness surrounded her completely and she was enveloped by a black void. She was flying. Or was she falling? The alternations between overwhelming terror and curiosity were both unexpected and exhausting. Even within the dream, Keres felt tired.

Then it shifted. Darkness. Walls that sweated moisture until it dripped down the stone. Puddles on the dirt floor. Echoing footsteps that went on forever. Breathing misted before her face like smoke from a dragon's mouth. Cold bit at her limbs. She shivered, even though she wore a heavy cloak. Rocky spines reached down from the ceiling and up from the floor. In places, they joined together to form columns. And the patterns. Shifting colors and shapes lingered at the very edges of her vision. When she turned to look at them, they were gone. Her hand reached out to touch the wall. It was slimy and frigid and the sound of distant wind filled her mind. There was something very familiar about this place. Had she been here before? She wasn't sure.

Then came a new sound: the rasp of metal on stone. Something in her mind stirred. Alarm bells began to sound inside her head. She knew that sound. A sword. Enemies! Danger! Keres' eyes snapped open even as her hand flew to where her sword usually hung. She bolted upright. A massive figure sprang into the edge of her peripheral vision and she turned to face it, even as her fingers met with thick, woolen sheets. A loud crash echoed in the stone room and Keres winced at the noise.

She found herself face to face with a massive urgal. His horns curved menacingly above a broad face with dirty-yellow eyes. A chair, which he had apparently been sitting in, lay on its side just behind him. In one hand, he held a curved knife, and in the other, a stone. For a few seconds, the scene was still as they stared at each other. Then he lifted his head and let out a loud ruk-ruk. His amusement only deepened her confusion until her eyes fell on the gleaming, red broadsword leaning against the nearest wall. _A rider's sword. _The realization was infinitely reassuring and she sagged back against the bed, allowing a grin to spread across her face. A few moments later, she was laughing along with him.

Finally, he lowered his horned head, peering at her. "It is good to see you awake."

She inclined her head. "Thank you. You are Kakirvog, are you not?" At present, there was only one Rider in the order who carried a red sword.

He nodded. "I am. I was sent to aid Tarehlak and Thane in keeping guard over you."

She turned her attention to the room. It was Spartan at best. The furniture was well-made, but unadorned. The bed she lay in was comfortable enough, but whoever had made it was clearly going for functionality rather than luxury. It was, in the end, the stone walls that gave her the first indication of where she might be. She could think of no other race that could fit stone together so perfectly with such little mortar. "Where are we?" She asked, half suspecting she knew the answer.

There was a faint slither of steel as the kull sheathed his knife. "You are in Orthíad, the Dwarf city. Thane brought you here, after the run-in with the Sorceress."

Seizing upon this piece of news, she hurriedly asked, "Then he's okay?"

Kakirvog bared his teeth in a fierce smile. "Yes. He and both of your dragons are fine. You seem to have taken the brunt of the injuries. However, as you can see, the Dwarf healers did well. You should make a full recovery."

In spite of his words, Keres quickly yanked the covers off of her legs. As she did so, it suddenly occurred to her that her clothes were gone. She was now dressed in a simple, white tunic that fell nearly to her knees. She wondered who had changed her clothes and fervently hoped that it had been a woman. Turning her attention to her legs, she was delighted to see only smooth, unblemished skin. She let out a soft sigh of relief. She remembered the pain only vaguely, but, at the time, she had worried that the injuries might not have been fixable. Her arm, too, must have been mended, for she hadn't notice even the faintest trace of pain in her shoulder. She rotated it experimentally, and felt the joint flex smoothly.

In fact, the only thing she could have said was wrong with her was the faint, throbbing headache centered on the left side of her forehead. That, she supposed, was unavoidable. If her memory was correct, she had smacked her head at least twice during the fight, if not more often. The fact that she couldn't pinpoint the exact number only served to strengthen the argument. Still, if that was the worst thing wrong with her in the wake of such an ordeal, then she had been very lucky indeed. She resolved to find the healers and thank them as soon as the opportunity presented itself. A new thought struck her and she asked, "Were there . . . problems . . . when we tried to enter?"

For a moment, the kull didn't answer. Then he growled low in his throat. "Aye, there were. The dwarves were going to refuse you both entrance. However, the she-wolf that rules this city intervened on your behalf. From what I gather, she's not the type of woman one refuses."

Keres sighed. "Well, I can't say I expected anything else. My relations with the dwarves have always been somewhat tense. Is that why you're here to guard me?"

Kakirvog shrugged. "I'm not sure. There's really no precident for this. We've never had a Dragon Rider who was so severely injured that they were incapable of defending themselves. However, I think it likely that we would have guarded you regardless of what race was sheltering us. Our order is not so large that we can afford any unnecessary accidents to befall our Riders."

She raised an eyebrow, "Accidents?"

"Accidents" He repeated firmly.

"KERES!"

The mental shout was so strong and unexpected that the young woman actually jumped. Instinctively, her hands reached up to cover her ears before she realized that the movement would do her no good. Raising aggrieved eyes to the heavens, she answered. _Do you really need to shout inside my head?_

Vast waves of concern and relief swept through her as Vikonyx studied her thoughts. "Are you alright?"

_You already know the answer to that, so I'm not sure why you're asking. But yes, I am feeling much better. A little stiff, but much better than I was. _Keres was somewhat uncomfortable over the fuss her partner was making. It was gratifying, to be sure, but also a bit embarrassing.

The dragon's delight was palpable as she rumbled. "That is good. I was worried."

Keres smiled wryly. _For a moment, so was I._

"Do you remember what happened?"

_Enough of it to get by. _Keres answered softly, a faint frown crossing her face. _I remember everything until I hit the ground that last time, which, I assume, is pretty much everything that happened. _

"You got her." The words contained an unexpected glow of pride that made Keres' cheeks flush.

_It was only a minor wound. She'll heal it in no time. _

In her mind's eye, she watched Vikonyx give the dragon's equivalent of a shrug. "You dealt her a severe blow. Limbs cannot be re-attached if you do not possess them. She might find a suitable replacement, but she will never be as she was. Moreover, she did not think you capable of harming her, and you did. That will make her uncertain, which is to our advantage. You did well." Despite the casual tone in which the statement was made, it was delivered with such precision that Keres had no doubt her partner had given it quite a bit of thought. Not for the first time, Keres marveled that people could believe that the dragons were simply dumb brutes.

She ducked her head. _I did what I could. I'm pleased that you approve. Will you be returning soon?_

"I can, if you wish me too."

Keres considered the offer for a moment, then shook her head. _No. Hunt now and rest. I don't know if I'm up to walking around yet._ She might have been healed, but that didn't mean that her body had completely recovered. You couldn't heal exhaustion.

There was a pause, and then Vikonyx asked, "We will meet in the morning then?"

_Yes, in the morning. _

"I love you, heart-sister."

_And I you. _The majority of the contact vanished, but Keres could still feel a tendril of thought connecting them. Clearly, Vikonyx was not wholly convinced that her partner was alright. For a moment, Keres was mildly irritated. Then she realized that she would likely have done the same thing and let the emotion go.

Kakirvog was watching her with some amusement. "She has been very concerned." He said sagely.

"I can tell."

"Now that you are awake, I must go and inform Tarehlak. Is there anything you would like me to bring you?"

She thought for a moment, "Do they have a library here?"

"Indeed"

"Well, I'd be grateful for anything written in the Ancient Language, or in our tongue. I can't read dwarvish very well. An epic would be my top pick." Keres had read many Dwarf tails and had been surprised to find that they closely resembled many of those told by humans, more so than the elves' tales did anyway. And she suspected that, since Orthíad was the dominion of the War-Wolves, as the Vrenshrrgn clan was called, there would be no shortage books featuring thrilling accounts of battles and quests. The thought cheered her somewhat, as she had been anticipating a rather boring evening.

Kakirvog nodded a few times as he committed her request to memory. "Very well. I will return within the hour." His huge feet made the floor shake as he moved to the door. For a wild moment, Keres thought it would be too small to accommodate him. Then he ducked his head down, pushed the wooden door back, and squeezed through the opening. As it swung closed behind him again, Keres laid her head against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

They had, she knew, been extremely lucky. Luckier than even she could have hoped for. Thane had emerged from the encounter unscathed and, between the Sorceress and herself, Keres felt that she had dealt a worse wound than she had received. But she didn't share Vikonyx's optimism about the situation. Certainly, the injury was mutilating, but it was not fatal. Nor did Keres think that it would slow the Sorceress down for long. Wrose, the young woman secretly feared that, if anything, it would make the older woman angry. The few times that Keres could remember the woman sustaining any sort of injury, the Sorceress had taken out her wrath on whatever unfortunate individual had been in the area. Perhaps it was the woman's extreme pride, but she saw even the smallest scratch inflicted upon her person as warranting a fury that Keres recalled as near god-like. The fact that Keres, a being that the Sorceress considered her rightful property, had inflicted the injury could only serve to exacerbate the situation.

All things considered, Keres thought that all she had accomplished was to put a giant target on her back. But the idea did not frighten her as much as it might have before the encounter. In spite of the unfortunate circumstances under which she had been forced to fight the Sorceress, she had come out alive. More importantly, she had gotten Vikonyx, Thane, and Evaríncel out alive. Every aspect of the situation convinced her that she might not be quite so outmatched as she had feared. Sure, she had caught her mother off guard, but the handicap had been more than even. Keres nodded slowly to herself. Even if the danger came, it would not come for some time. The Sorceress would need time to recover and she wouldn't be so quick to cross the Dragon Riders in the future.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Enter" She called in a carrying voice, suspecting that it might be Thane or Tarehlak coming to visit her. It swung inward. She had already opened her mouth to speak when she suddenly recognized the figure that was entering. Her eyes widened as the Dwarf quietly closed the door. "King Orik!" She made to rise from the bed, but was forestalled by a raised hand.

"Stay there girl. Gûntera knows you've earned a bit of rest, eh?" He settled himself down in the chair near her bed and eyed her curiously.

Keres had only ever seen the Dwarf-king in the mirror when Eragon had needed to contact him. Certainly, there had been images of him in Vrenbana, but she had found that images rarely did the subject justice. His brown hair was streaked with grey and his beard was braided into two, long plaits that nearly reached his knees. In spite of his apparent age, his swelling shoulders and broad chest denoted a strength that most would envy. The eyes however, which were the blue of a clear sky, were bright and sparkling like those of a much younger man. On the whole, there was an air of undeniable strength about this man that Keres found impressive. She bowed her head, frantically searching for the right words. "Jok zeitmen na."

His eyes gleamed and a small grin played across his lips. "I am glad to know that Eragon taught you some Dwarvish."

Keres smiled apologetically, "I'm not even close to fluent my lord, but I know enough to get by."

"That is good." Orik said softly. He studied her for a few more seconds before he said, in a formal tone, "Rider Tarehlak informed me of your ordeal. I am glad to see that both you and your dragon came out of it unscathed." He paused before adding, "I must also thank you for driving that woman away from my people. As you are no doubt aware, we have suffered much at her hands, and I was most aggrieved to learn that she had been sighted within my realm once more. You have the gratitude of the dwarves for dealing with this threat, Dragon Rider."

The formality of the statement made her cheeks flush. She hadn't expected any of the dwarves to acknowledge her accomplishment. Not that she held it against them. They had reason to dislike her. However, to have the Dwarf King thank her, and in person no less, left her utterly speechless. For a few seconds, she struggled to find the right words. Finally, she spoke quietly. "Your praise is misplaced, King Orik. It was Rider Thane and his partner, Evaríncel, who discovered the location of the Sorceress. They pursued her and engaged her in battle. I only arrived halfway through the encounter to provide assistance."

"I have spoken to Rider Thane." He said calmly. "I offered my thanks to him as well, but he assured me that, had you not arrived in such a timely manner, neither he, nor his dragon would have survived. It was also you who charged the Sorceress in a final attempt to subdue her. I may not be able to use magic myself, young Rider, but I am aware of the dangers of charging one who is using unknown magic. It is not something that most people would possess the courage to do."

The heat that had suffused her cheeks rose higher and she felt the tips of her ears begin to burn. Realizing that she had lost, she murmured, "I thank you for your kind words, King Orik, but I was merely performing my duty. I am a Dragon Rider."

She saw a flicker of approval in his eyes, then his shoulders relaxed somewhat and he responded, "You are a credit to your order, and to your master." The King leaned forward, a strange twinkle in his eye as he added, "Now that the formalities are out of the way, allow me to say that Eragon also had a habit of getting himself into sticky situations. I often wondered if he simply possessed a propensity for getting into danger, or if his luck was just abysmal. Either way, you seem to have taken after him."

Chuckling, Keres said, "Saphira often told me much the same thing."

"Well, if Saphira says it, then it must be true. Still," he commented musingly, "you also appear to have inherited his ability to get himself and others out of sticky situations. That was a right mess you found yourself in, but you got everyone out of it in one piece."

"Well, almost everybody." She said, grinning. She couldn't resist the opportunity to make the joke.

He chuckled. Now that he had satisfied the requirements of his position and was beginning to relax, she found him slightly less intimidating. At her words, he began to massage his wrist in such a way that she knew he must have been shown the arm she had cleaved off her mother. "I can't argue there. Some of our best warriors have gone up against her without giving her so much as a scratch, but here you come, child that you are, and take her hand off." He shook his head in disbelief, "Make no mistake, you've put many Dwarves in a right fine quandary, you have."

"Me?" Keres blinked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Orik waved a hand, "You know quite well how most of my race view you. You are an extension of a woman that many hate and fear. In spite of your status as a Dragon Rider, most are very much determined to dislike you. The news that you actually drove the Sorceress away and dealt her such a wound will only complicate matters. Most will be horrified by the idea that they should be grateful to you. Some will wonder if she allowed you to drive her away, or if the two of you are plotting something and this was a ruse to gain there trust." He sighed. "Our history has made us a wary and cautious people. We are disinclined to believe the most obvious answer, as we generally feel it is too simple to be true."

A flicker of anger went through Keres. The thought that some people might misconstrue her actions as having the Sorceress' hand behind them was outrageous.

Seeing the look, Orik smiled gently. "Your anger is understandable. I imagine, in your position, I would be quite angry too. But you are not a child. Surely, you understand the place from which my people speak and why they think the way that they do."

Keres nodded grudgingly. The Dwarves were the only people that she felt had a reason to dislike her. She had actively participated in her mother's plans to capture Dwarven scouts and had often played a pivotal role in them. The elves, she had never even encountered, so she felt their hatred was unjustified. But the Dwarves she understood. To an extent, she sympathized with them. It was this, more than anything else, which kept her calm when he asked the question she had been expecting.

"So, as king of the Dwarves, I have come to ask you this. Keres, do you have any idea what your mother is doing and are you, in any way, involved?"

She took a moment to gather herself before she answered. It would not do well to speak hastily just now. Switching to the Ancient Language, she said, slowly and clearly, "I have no idea what my mother is planning." At least, she meant to say that. Instead, the words died in her throat, refusing to allow her to utter them aloud. For a moment, she was puzzled. She saw Orik's eyebrows contract fractionally. She sighed, struggling to find the words for what was nagging at her conscience and keeping her from speaking. In the common tongue, she said, "I know that, in the few years I was with her, she was attempting to discover a way to keep a living body from aging. As you are aware, it is possible to restore an old man to the body he had as a youth, however, it requires a large amount of energy and the spell is quite complex. More importantly, the vitality that is required to complete the spell can never be returned to the individual from which it was drawn. I assume, that this is still her intended motive. Do you include this in your question?"

He shook his head.

"Then no, I have no idea what my mother is currently planning. Nor am I involved in any way, save that it is my ambition to stop her from gaining what she seeks." This time, the Ancient Language flowed smoothly from her tongue.

King Orik nodded a few times, seemingly content with her statement. "That is good. Thank you for answering truthfully. Now, when my advisers, as me, I will, hopefully, have a more credible answer as to what your motives are." He fingered his beard thoughtfully as he added, in a much lower voice, "For what it's worth, I've never thought that you were our enemy."

"You didn't?" Keres was surprised.

"No" Orik said definitively. "Even as a child, there was never any indication that you laid a hand on anyone, Dwarf or otherwise. But more importantly, when you joined the Dragon Riders, Eragon grew to trust you. I trust Eragon. Therefore, I trust you."

Guilt clenched in her stomach as she hung her head. She felt like she needed to make a confession. She couldn't just accept this sort of forgiveness without making sure it was not unfounded. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. Beneath his piercing gaze, she knelt on the floor, pressing her forehead against the cold stone. It was not something she had ever done, but she felt it was necessary now. She couldn't apologize to all of the Dwarves, but this was the one who mattered the most. Not only was he the king of his race, but he was a friend and foster-brother of Eragon. "I may not have touched your soldiers and scouts sir, but I was crucial to their demise. I lured many of them to my mother. I didn't really understand why I was doing it, and I know now that it was a terrible thing to do, but I did it. For that, I beg your forgiveness, King Orik."

There was silence for a moment. Then she heard his feet hit the floor and a rough hand touched her shoulder. "Get up, Keres." She lifted her head to look at him and was surprised to see gentleness on the hard face. As he helped her to her feet, he said, "You were a child. We all do things as children that we regret later. You didn't know better. Now you do. You have my forgiveness. Consider the matter closed."

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, King Orik."

A horn sounded from somewhere out in the city, and he glanced toward the door. "Now, I must be going. Truth be told, I didn't inform my guards as to where I was going." At her shocked expression, he shrugged, "I thought they might be a bit nervous about my meeting you alone in a room, and I had no intention of allowing them in here. However, if I don't return soon, I'm sure they'll tear the city apart looking for me." He held out a hand. "I am glad, to have finally met you in person, Keres Eragon-daughter. You've turned into a fine young woman and I know that your father is very proud of you."

She took the offered hand, shaking it firmly as she smiled at him. "Thank you. It was honor to finally meet you as well. Eragon speaks most highly of you."

Releasing her hand, Orik took a few, quick strides that carried him to the door. As she slipped back into bed, he grabbed the handle, turned, and pulled. He was already halfway through the frame when he turned back to look at her. "Oh and Keres?"

"Yes sir?"

"Do try not to get yourself killed. There's no real precedent, but Eragon's adopting you might make you legally a dwarf. That means that if you get killed, we'd have to do something about it and that's quite a bit of paperwork for me."

She stared for a long moment, uncertain of whether he was joking or not. His face was deadpan and, finally deciding that he was serious, she nodded. "Of course, King Orik."

He inclined his head to her and then stepped through the open portal and closed the door behind him. As she leaned back and stared absently around the room, trying to digest what had just occurred, she thought the heard the echo of a ringing laugh from somewhere down the hall.


	60. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

Thane groaned, rotating his arm gingerly before looking back at Nortavog. "I wasn't ready for that."

The female urgal grinned at him, cocking her head sideways, "You wouldn't be the first to underestimate me and you probably won't be the last."

Sweat dripped down his face as he gritted his teeth. "I sparred with Ethrunor, but even he didn't hit like that." Thane said. He was hastily trying to massage some feeling back into his numb right arm so that they could continue their training bout.

Nortavog shrugged, "He's quite a bit younger than I am. Also, like all those urgralrai, he wanted a big, clunky weapon. It might suit him, but it also makes it quite obvious how strong he is. I'd wager that you'd never attempt to parry his sword like you just did mine." She twirled the pink blade smoothly as she spoke. She had a point, Thane had to admit. All of the other urgal riders were urgralrai, male urgals, and, with the exception of Ethrunor they all favored long, heavy swords that clearly displayed their immense strength. Indeed, even though Ethrunor carried a smaller sword, it was still huge in comparison to the ones the human, elf, and dwarf riders carried. Nortavog carried a much shorter sword that she had called an Ox-tailed Saber. It was much less intimidating than the massive weapons the other urgals carried, but its size belied the force behind it. The she-urgal was nearly as strong as her male counterparts and, due to her training, could channel that strength more accurately.

Thane had almost been convinced that his arm had been broken when he had tried to block the overhand cut. Some feeling was beginning to return to his sword-arm, but it came as a dull, throbbing pain. He had asked Nortavog to spar with him this morning to take some of the monotony out of performing his sword drills alone. He practiced daily with both Kveykva and his smaller hunting knives. As a boy, his father had insisted that both he and Thaddeus practice hand-to-hand combat with small knives. As the King always said, "You will never be attacked when it's convenient. If you have to fight at quarters that are too close for a real sword, you need to know how to defend yourself." Not that he needed knives to fight at close-quarters anymore. Magic would serve him just as well. However, he had spent so much time learning to use the shorter knives that he felt the skill shouldn't go to waste.

"Are you ready to continue?" Nortavog's tone made it clear that the session would not end here.

Thane grimaced. _What have I gotten myself into? _

There was an abnormal silence in response to the mental question. Evaríncel had gone hunting early that morning and would be far away amidst the mountains of the spine. For once, Thane didn't mind. It meant that his partner wouldn't be here to see him get embarrassed by the older rider. Still, despite Nortavog's superior strength, he had no intention of being bested so easily. They resumed their furious clash of arms and the sound of metal striking metal rang across the grounds of Sunvarda.

After returning from Orthíad nearly a month ago, life at the Dragon Rider base had settled back into its comfortable rhythm, with one notable exception: there was now one more rider stationed with them. Keres and Vikonyx had arrived nearly a week after he had. For the first time ever, the fort was fully garrisoned. As Gareth and Tourmal were absent for long periods of time, they had never been counted toward the number of riders stationed at Sunvarda. Now, with Keres and Vikonyx present, the fort boasted its full contingent of four dragons and riders. Thane had been subjected to the same sensation of newness that he knew Tarehlak and Nortavog must have felt when he arrived. Suddenly there was one more place setting at the table, one more set of muddy boots set inside the door, and one more dragon inhabiting the caves at the base of the tower. Even more importantly, the empty room above his was suddenly occupied.

Keres' things had actually arrived before she did. She had left many of her personal effects in the care of Arya during her brief stay in Du Weldenvarden. The elf-rider had taken great care to see that they were delivered safely. Thane, Nortavog, and Tarehlak had carried the items up to the spare room and left them there to await her arrival. They had resisted the urge to see what was in the bags that they carried up, deciding that it would be churlish to go through her things without permission. More importantly, none of them knew what her disposition was. Thane had only seen her sparingly, and then only during training sessions, which weren't necessarily indicative of her true nature.

Much to his surprise, Thane had found the young woman to be quite pleasant and easy-going. Certainly, there was an intensity to her. But she was much more even-tempered than he had expected. Keres had thus far spent much of her time in her room or on patrols. When she dined with them, she was polite and cheerful, with a wit that even Tarehlak couldn't help but approve of. All things considered, she had settled in quite well to life in Sunvarda.

_Of course, it doesn't hurt that her being here makes our patrols much easier. _With a new dragon and rider to help with the workload, they had been able to shorten the patrols and each pair could go out less frequently. Thane and Evaríncel wouldn't be going out until the following day, when they would make a round that would take him through six of the towns in their area over the next week or so. They were decent size cities, but their close proximity would make it easier for him to survey them all. At present, Tarehlak was making rounds through their northeastern territories, passing through Dras Leona, Bullridge, Moranon, and Huranine. Nortavog had a few days before she would leave to monitor Melian, Cithri, Furnost, and Uru'baen. Keres had just returned the previous day from a long patrol that included Kuasta, Tierm, Narda, Therinsford, Carvahall, Utgart, Yazuac, and Daret. The last five were recent acquisitions for the Sunvarda Riders, who had taken them over from the post in Du Weldenvarden. Next patrol they would swap, with Keres and Thane receiving the shorter missions while Nortavog and Tarehlak took the longer ones.

The end result was that a rider and their dragon could expect at least three days of rest after a patrol before they were expected to go on the next one. This meant a bit more leisure time, and, more importantly, more time to practice with magic and martial skills. Thus the bright, morning sunshine found him and Nortavog, streaming with sweat, grunting with exertion, and attempting to batter each other into little pieces.

They had paused for another break when a now-familiar, white-haired figure emerged from around the side of the fortress. Keres was wearing a short tunic which fell way above her knees. The vast majority of her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, excepting two locks of hair that fell down in front of her face. One was bright pink, the other was midnight blue. She had gotten into the habit of changing their color every few days, one of the holdovers from her time in Golrazi. As she came closer, Thane realized that she had carried a bag from which the handles of what appeared to be several spades protruded. Moreover, her knees were dirt-stained and there were smears of dust and soil across the front of her clothing.

She seemed to be muttering to herself, completely preoccupied with some inner debate. Whether or not she was talking to herself or her dragon was hard to say, but she was obviously not paying attention to her surroundings. For a moment, Thane had the insane urge to throw something at her. Then he shook himself. Where had that come from?

In the end, it was Nortavog who hailed her. "Care to join us Keres?"

The young woman looked up. From the expression on her face, it was obvious that she had not even realized that they were there. Her eyebrows rose in a questioning look before they took in the sweaty limbs and bared blades. A look of renewed interest entered the piercing gaze. She regarded them evenly from between the two colored locked of hair that hung down in front of her face and Thane had the distinct impression that they were being sized up.

The female urgal pointed at the young woman with her blade. "Would you like to spar? I've heard you're pretty skilled." She prompted.

_Ah flattery. The best way to approach a female regardless of species. _Again, the silence was somewhat off-putting.

Keres seemed to consider the idea, but, even as she did so, Thane saw her fingers flex toward the black-hilt that protruded from the scabbard at her waist. That was the first thing that he had learned about the young woman during their time in Vrenbana: she loved to fight. After a few moments, she spoke. "Against both of you?"

He she been almost anyone else, Thane might have considered such a request presumptuous. Nortavog was a skilled and powerful warrior, and Thane was rather good in his own right. But he had seen this woman outpace Ralihirn in their sparing matches. One on one, Thane knew that neither he nor Nortavog would have been able to touch her. It seemed that the she-urgal came to this same conclusion almost simultaneously. After a faint twitch of indignation, she inclining her horned head and rumbled, "If that is what you want.'

Keres nodded, "I will go and put these away and return in a few minutes. Please take the time to rest. I wouldn't want there to be any excuses when you both lose." The words were spoken matter-of-factly, but there was a tell-tale twitching at the corners of her mouth that belied her amusement.

Thane raised an eyebrow, "Oho, newbie's got jokes!"

As the young woman vanished into the massive tower, Nortavog shook her head. "Shame she isn't more confident."

"Watch out for her though." Thane was watching the door to make sure she didn't re-emerge while she was speaking. "She's fast and strong."

"Strong?" Nortavog's brow furrowed, "She doesn't look terribly strong."

He shook his head, "Don't let that deceive you. She might not look like an elf, but she certainly fights like one."

They broke off the conversation as the slim figure re-emerged from the tower. Her black blade was strapped at her waist and, as she emerged into the sunlight, she drew it. The motion was practiced and easy, and the razor-sharp edge glinted in the sunlight. Keres quickly began to guard the edge as Nortavog stared curiously at the blade. Thane felt the familiar jolt in his stomach as he looked at the curved, vicious blade. The apparent ease with which it had cleaved the limb from the Sorceress' arm had quite unnerved him. It was made for slashing and slicing. Those would likely be her most potent weapons. Even with the practice swords in Vrenbana, Keres had been a formidable opponent. Now, armed with a sword specially made for her, it was unlikely that she would be any less skillfull.

"Ready"

He was surprised to see that she was now holding her sword against the scabbard, in the same position as if it had been sheathed. Her legs were straight and as she studied them both, her head swiveling from side to side as she waited for them to prepare. Quickly reviewing the strategies for fighting an opponent with a partner, Thane took a few steps sideways, making a triangle between himself, Keres, and Nortavog. Seeing the move, Keres dropped into a crouch, her bright eyes fixed on a point between where he and the urgal stood ready. He watched as she drew in a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she stilled herself for the fight.

For a few seconds, no one moved. Then, as the ever-existent breeze picked up once again, Thane saw one of her two colored locks of hair move into her face, blocking her field of vision. He lunged forward, charging straight at Keres. Her eyes flickered in his direction, but when she moved, it was not toward him. She sprinted at Nortavog, covering the distance in three sweeping strides. As ever, Thane couldn't help but be impressed by her speed. Nortavog barely brought her blade up in time to block the sweeping slash aimed at her torso. Even where he was, Thane heard the grunt of surprise and effort the female urgal released at the impact. He had expected the impact to jar both of them. Instead, Keres twirled, twisting her arm as she spun and bringing the blade across in a backhanded swipe aimed at the urgal's knees. Nortavog stepped back, avoiding the blow as she launched a downward chop at Keres' head.

Instead of lunging sideways, as Thane had expected, the white-haired girl threw herself backward, nearly colliding with him. He barely managed to side-step her, swinging Kveykva in a wide arc that missed her arm by inches. Her next lunge came in a series of zig-zags that were meant to confuse them both as to who she was striking at. In spite of her speed, Thane focused in on her eyes. He would see the shift in them when she decided who to strike. At the last second, when he was almost certain that she was going to attack Nortavog, her eyes fixed on him. He quickly parried the strike aimed at his shoulder and attempted a glide toward her. She disengaged, leaping back and only narrowly managing to avoid Nortavog's slice at her legs.

Thane remembered one occasion when he was a child, where he and his brother had watched the kitchen staff trying to wrangle a pig that had escaped. He and Thaddeus had hooted with laughter as they watched the small animal evade his pursuers. At the time, Thane had been amused by the fact that, every time it looked as if the men had the animal in a corner, it had quickly scooted past them or between their legs. He had the same impression now as he watched Keres expertly evade their blades. There was little need for her to block them. She simply danced out of the way, expending as little energy as possible.

Thane had rarely felt so outclassed in his life. There were few humans or dwarves alive that could match him in combat, but Keres might have surprised even the greatest of the elves in her skill. Belatedly, Thane remembered what Gareth had told them during one of his latest visits.

"They say she nearly beat Eragon. The only reason she lost was because she used a training sword and he Brisingr. Had her blade not broken, she would have bested him well and truly."

Eragon was considered to be one of the greatest swordsmen alive, if not the greatest. Keres had enjoyed his training since she was a child, and he had kept her longer than ever any apprentice had been kept without showing any sort of deficiency. A darker thought suddenly entered his mind as he wondered: _If I hadn't been there to mess her up, could she have defeated the Sorceress on her own?_

The battle went on for several, pulse-pounding minutes. Thane was being pushed to the limits of his creativity. He threw every trick he could think of at the young woman and met with some success. He managed to land a jab on the upper, right side of her chest that had seemed to surprise her greatly. Nortavog had nicked the back of the white-haired woman's calf, which had slowed her for a few minutes. However, Thane felt that he and his partner had received the worst of the bumps. He was sporting a massive bruise on his left arm were Keres had slipped beneath his guard and dealt him a fierce blow. He also had a sore wrist from where he had belatedly attempted a parry that had wretched the joint. Nortavog had gotten two sharp raps, one on the ribcage and the other on the thigh, which still had her limping.

Finally, in a desperate effort to bring the session to a close, both the young man and the female urgal charged Keres, determined to crush her beneath the weight of their combined attacks. Nortavog reached her first and brought a crushing stroke down toward the girl's shoulder. Keres' lips pulled back in a snarl as she blocked the strike, holding her sword in place even beneath the force of the blow. Thane saw Nortavog's brow furrow as Keres held her ground, pushing back against the urgal. Taking the opportunity, he swept low, aiming a cut at Keres' legs that would incapacitate her. He saw the white eyes flicker in his direction. Afterwards, neither of them were completely certain what had happened. Nortavog would claim that she had seen the basic motion, but Thane only saw a blur of black metal as Keres performed a complex series of sword strokes. There was a resounding clang, a slither of metal on metal, and then a dull thud. Nortavog's pink sword, Hjaregja, went spinning into the air, a bright flash of color against the blue sky. Kveykva met a parry that pushed it down and into the soft earth at Keres' feet. She locked their hilts together firmly before driving her shoulder into Thane's chest. The sudden force of it tore the blade loose from his hands and he fell back, sprawling on the ground.

The scene was frozen for a moment. Nortavog's arms were still raised where they had finally lost their grip on the blade. Thane stared up at the figure above him, blinking the stars from his eyes. And Keres glared down at him, her eyes wild and her chest heaving. Then Nortavog swore in the guttural language of the urgals and lowered her hand. "Well fought, White-Eye."

Keres stared down at Thane for a moment longer, then a broad grin broke over her face. He stared. He had never seen her smile in such a way before. He had seen the bared-teeth, wolfish grin that she sometimes got during a particularly intense sparring session, but this was something different. This was a genuine smile that lit up her entire face. Her eyes were sparkling as she took the block off her sword and sheathed it. And then she began to laugh, a bright, clear tone that echoed across the empty space and off the walls of the tower. Her delight and exhilaration were evident and she reached down to offer her hand to him. He took it, slightly bemused, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"That was fun!" She said cheerfully.

Her joy was infection and Thane began to laugh and, a moment later, Nortavog joined them. The she-urgal lifted her head in a gesture of respect. "I was telling Thane not to underestimate me, but it seems that I underestimated you, Keres. That was well fought. Well fought indeed."

Keres turned to her, inclining her head. "Thank you, Nortavog. You and Thane gave me a run for my money." The young woman shifted her weight off her injured leg, grinning wryly. "Guess I got a little too cocky for my own good." Her tunic was drenched with sweat and clung to her slender frame as she reached up to wipe her face with the back of her hand.

Nortavog sheathed her blade. "Good work both of you. Now, let's go get cleaned up shall we? Shaira won't serve us if we show up looking like this."

Thane looked down at himself and realized that, aside from the grass stains and dirt smears across his clothes, his shirt was sticking to his skin. Though she didn't have any real authority, Shaira, the woman who did the cooking and much of the cleaning in Sunvarda, had a strict set of rules regarding dining etiquette. It was not unknown for her to refuse to dole out the food until her guidelines had been met. So good-naturedly, they all trooped back into the tower and began to climb the spiral stair up to their rooms.

Nortavog's was the lowest, and she nodded to Thane before pushing open the door to her room and closing it behind her. One floor later, Thane turned to enter his own room, only to be stopped as a voice spoke up behind him.

"Hey" He turned to look at Keres who had been trailing slightly behind him. As he looked at her, he saw her cheeks flush, but she continued doggedly. "I wanted to thank you . . . I . . . would have been terrified if I'd had to fight my . . ." she seemed to choke on the word momentarily, "mother, without you."

He smiled, "You mean, you were so worried about me dying that you forgot to be terrified? Glad to know I'm good for something."

"No! I didn't mean . . ." She began hastily. Then she saw the smile threatening to break through his blank expression and faltered as she realized he was teasing her. A hesitant smile crossed her own face as she shrugged, "Yeah, something like that."

Thane swept into a theatrical bow, "Well, I was only too glad to help. What's life without a little mortal peril?"

Keres chuckled at the joke and, for a moment, they stared awkwardly at each other. Then she ducked her head, "Okay, well, I'll see you at dinner." She hurried past him, up the stairs, and to her own room. As Thane heard the door shut, he couldn't keep the smile from breaking fully across his face.

"Very smooth." Evaríncel murmured in his mind.

_Oh shut up. _


	61. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

The world spun around Keres as Vikonyx pulled out of her corkscrewing dive. Vertigo gripped the young woman for a few seconds and she had to close her eyes until everything had righted itself. The sky was painted with glorious shades of gold and pink and purple as the sun arched toward the western horizon and both dragon and rider were enjoying this evening flight. Vikonyx spiraled upward, happily spraying a pennant of black flame into the air around them. Keres laughed, releasing her grip on the saddle and throwing her arms out wide. Vikonyx was a dragon perfectly suited for the air. She reveled in the joy of flight and her emotions sang across the bond to her partner.

The dragon tucked in her wings and performed another gut-wrenching dive, catching herself mere feet above the tops of the tallest trees. They were skimming along the eastern edge of the spine, flying northward for the second day now. Though they were not on a regular patrol, a request for aid had come from Carvahall, and the Dragon Riders were honor bound to answer. As no one was due to visit the city for at least another week or so, Keres and Vikonyx had volunteered to fly up to the city during their time off. Keres had always wanted to see Eragon's hometown and the tower of Edoc'sil, where Vrael had fallen. There was much history to be found in the large city.

Not that it had been large in Eragon's day. When he had lived there, it had been little more than a farming town, nestled in the largely forgotten corner of the empire. However, upon his return after the Rider War, Roran Stronghammer had built the fortress of Stonetree Hill. Under his rule, Palancar Valley had experienced an explosive growth. As the childhood home of both Eragon and Roran, Carvahall obtained something of a mythical status and became a hugely popular tourist attraction. Inns and taverns and shops had sprung up to cater to the influx of visitors and, within a few years, the town had grown into a sprawling metropolis. Even now, Roran's descendants ruled from the castle that he had begun building with his own hands.

Vikonyx climbed yet again, blasting through a cloud and showering Keres with tiny droplets of water. That was one thing the girl thought she would never get tired of doing. As a child, she had gazed up at the sky, as all children did, and wondered what it would be like to sit on a cloud. Of course, to actually sit on a cloud wasn't possible. But when Vikonyx flew like this, it was as if she were actually seated in the heavens. Dipping to escape the freezing water, the black dragon leveled out as the mouth of the valley came into view and Keres felt the joy drain slightly from her partner as the ruined hulk of a tower came into view high on one of the hills. The black dragon swooped low, circling slowly around the stone building. There was a moment of mingled awe and sorrow as the dragon and rider gazed at one of the last remaining legacies of the riders.

A thought struck Keres and she gave a low, mirthless circle. _You know . . . the last time a Rider came here astride a black dragon . . ._ She let the thought hang.

Vikonyx seemed to consider the words for a long moment. "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right."

_It's not a comforting thought_.

"No, it isn't." The dragon agreed. Vikonyx pulled up slowly, hovering in the air. The gusts that emanated from beneath her wings made the scraps of cloth that remained in some of the windows flutter and billow. The triangular head moved forward slightly and Keres felt the sides beneath her heave as Vikonyx sniffed deeply. Then the dragon's lips lifted slightly and she snorted. "This place still reeks of despair."

Keres nodded. _How else could he have felt? Vrael, I mean. He was fleeing for his life. He was already injured. He wouldn't have remembered the Vault of Souls, so he would have assumed Umaroth was dead and the dragon and riders were finished. _She stared sadly at the blasted top of the tower, where a wide stretch of stone was visible and the roof had been torn away. _Those are heavy thoughts, even for someone as strong as Vrael. _

The pair was silent for a long moment before Vikonyx shook her herself. "He would be pleased, I think, with what Eragon has accomplished."

_I think so too. _Keres agreed. _We aren't what we were, but we are recovering. Because of him, and the other dragons and riders who sacrificed themselves to hide and protect the vault, we are alive. _

Vikonyx's wings flapped twice and she rose away from the tower, turning her head toward the faint glow that was visible in the rapidly darkening sky. Shaking off the melancholy the sight of the tower had brought on, Keres began to review everything that she knew about this mission. Earl David Coltson had sent word to the Riders by way of an elf traveling into Du Weldenvarden. There were bandits plaguing some of the mountains passes, and the Earl's men had thus far been unable to bring them to heel. As the post in Du Weldenvarden was still sparsely manned, Keres had been dispatched from Sunvarda to investigate the problem. _And Earl David is known for being a pretty capable statesman and ruler. Palancar Valley is one of the safest valleys in the empire. If their guards can't find these guys, something's up. _

"And Stonetree has one of the only dragon holds outside of our fortresses." Vikonyx put in. "I'm looking forward to a bit of relaxation while you sort this one out."

Keres' raised an eyebrow. _Me? They asked for a Dragon Rider. That means both of us._

A puff of smoke drifted back over her from the dragon's nostrils. "I am a dragon. I would never occupy my time with something as trivial as bandits."

Keres' return comment was cut off as the lights of Carvahall materialized out of the darkness before them. The entire effect was quite stunning and Keres had to blink several times before she was able to make out any details. Unlike most cities, the town lacked any outer walls, but that wasn't a surprise. The Spine provided much better protection from the outside world than any amount of stone or wood. What it did have were five stone watchtowers placed around the outer edges of the town. In each of these, a bright beacon burned, sending a blanket of flickering light over the entire town. In the midst of a sprawling mass of houses, inns, and shops sat Stonetree Hill. Its towering walls rose high into the sky around a massive spire that stretched up into the air. Another beacon, this one shimmering blue fire, was lit at the very top.

Keres let out a low whistle. _I wonder if Eragon has ever seen this?_ Then another idea struck her. _I should make him a fairth. He'd like that. _

Even as the thought occurred to her, three high, clear bugle notes sounded from the nearest tower. She saw the few people left in the streets start and look up, but the call had not been an alarm. It was the signal the Riders had agreed upon would herald their arrival. Vikonyx swooped by the tower and Keres gave the guardsmen a cheery wave. The beacons threw the dragon's gigantic shadow across the houses, elongating and distorting it until it was barely recognizable. And then the walls of the keep were passing beneath them and Vikonyx backflapped mightily, buffeting the stone and the watchmen on the walls with gusts of wind. The banners hung around the main courtyard snapped in the air and then hung limp as she dropped to the ground with a crash.

At almost the same moment, a set of doors swung open and light spilled into the courtyard. A double row of soldiers filed out, flanking two figures who walked proudly toward the dragon. Keres looked curiously around. The construction of Stonetree Hill was rather famous for its inventiveness. The huge, outer-wall was actually only one of two lines of defense. Within them, separated by about five feet of open space, was a second wall that stood only four feet higher. Walkways connected these two, but they were so small that only two men could walk abreast across them, making them easy choke points for a defending army. As Keres slipped to the ground, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face, the soldiers halted and the two figures approached. The first, a woman with graying streaks in her hair and wearing a beautiful blue dress, inclined her head.

"Welcome to Stonetree Hill, Dragon Rider. I am Vassi, wife of Earl David and this is our son, Fassel." She gestured toward the young man, who bowed. He was rather handsome. The youth looked to be around Keres' age and he was flashing her a brilliant smile that was already drawing a faint flush from her cheeks. Forcing her face to remain neutral, she inclined her head to him. It would be improper for her to bow to the son of an Earl. Dragon Riders might bow to the kings and queens of the respective races, but they were only to show the appropriate cordiality to lower ranking nobles.

"I am Keres and this is my partner, Vikonyx. We received the message from Earl David and came as quickly as we could. I apologize for the abruptness of my arrival, but the message seemed serious, so we wanted to address it as soon as possible."

Vikonyx, who was looking over her shoulder at the two newcomers, let out a long breath that smelled of fetid meat. "If he smiles much wider at you, his face will likely split at the seams."

The corners of Keres' mouth quirked upward and she had to fight back the smile as Vassi spoke again. "Certainly, this is a matter that we would like to resolve quickly. My husband regrets that he couldn't be here to greet you himself, however, he is currently engaged in talks with some of the local leaders. As you can imagine, your arrival caught us somewhat off guard." The faint downcast of her mouth spoke of an obvious combination of embarrassment and annoyance.

_Not that I blame her. I'd be a bit irritated to, in her shoes. _

But Vassi was still talking. "I must as your forgiveness, as the room above the Dragon Cave is currently being renovated. Would you be content with lodgings inside the main tower?"

Keres glanced back over her shoulder as Vikonyx spoke to her. "Go ahead and take it. I would like to spend much of my time out in the Spine anyways. These are the woods that Saphira hunted in her youth, and I daresay there will be plenty for me to investigate."

Nodding, Keres smiled back at the Earl's wife. "That will be fine ma'am."

"And shall we bring food for you dragon?" This time it was the young man who spoke. He was gazing admiringly at Vikonyx, who was flexing her wings impressively and staring around imperiously.

Raising her eyebrow a fraction of an inch, Keres shook her head. "There is no need. Vikonyx prefers to hunt for herself, so she will not need any food. She would, however, like for some bedding to be laid down in the cave. I trust that it is in working order?" She added, casting a questioning glance at Vassi.

The woman nodded. "Of course. We assumed that dragons would care a lot less about the décor in their sleeping quarters." Vikonyx snorted, blowing out a puff of smoke, and Keres watched the woman's eyes flicker in the dragon's direction before she continued. "As soon as you were spotted, we dispatched servants to ready the cave. It should be ready now, if you would like." She gestured to one side and Keres followed the line of her hand to a point in the wall where a dark hole loomed. It was seven feet off the ground, low enough to where any dragon could easily jump into it, but high enough to where most people would have to work to disturb the creature inside. Keres noted, with approval, that the lip of the cave was curved to resist any handhold an outsider might try to find.

Vikonyx nodded. "That looks pleasant. I can grab a nice nap before a midnight hunt." She rolled her shoulders. "Now, if you'll remove these bags, I think I'll go and check out this cave."

Keres nodded, stepping over to unstrap the saddle and bags that were fit snugly against the black scales. The entire ensemble was considerably lighter than what she was used to. She had carried only a few pairs of clothes and some basic supplies for this run, as Carvahall would be largely responsible for ensuring that she had everything she needed. As such, she easily hefted the large saddle, placing it on her left shoulder with the bags still attached. It wasn't until she heard the swift intake of breaths from behind her that she noticed anything was amiss. She turned inquiringly to look at the group behind her.

The guards were wide-eyed and several were muttering to each other. Vassi looked stunned while an incredulous grin was spreading slowly across Fassel's face. Still perplexed, Keres looked from face to face. "Is something wrong?"

The Earl's son was the one to finally solve the mystery. "Begging your pardon, but how much does that weigh?"

"The saddle?" Keres glanced sideways at it. "Well, this model is for slower journeys. It's made to be more comfortable to sit in for extended periods of time, but the molded quality makes it heavier. With the bags attached I'd say it's around . . ." She hefted it experimentally, "90, 100 pounds?"

She saw a look of disbelief pass over the faces of several of the guards and she held it out to them. "See for yourself?"

At a nod from Vassi, the nearest stepped forward and took the saddle from her. Of the entire group, he looked the most skeptical, and Keres couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation as his fingers tightened on the edges of the saddle. Almost immediately, it dropped several inches as his shoulders took the weight. His eyes widened again as he looked back at the men behind him. "She's serious!"

Keres laughed, reaching forward to take the pack from him. "Do not let my appearance fool you. I'm quite a bit stronger than I look."

"But you're not an elf, are you?" Fassel had blurted the words out. Immediately, his cheeks flushed red as his mother turned a furious glare on him.

However, Keres held up a hand. "It's alright. It's a valid question. No, as far as I'm aware, I'm human. I've just always been a bit more elf-like in terms of strength and speed." When Vassi didn't look convinced, the white-haired girl smiled. "I promise, it's not the first time I've been asked that and it definitely won't be the last."

Finally, the older woman relented and turned her gaze away from her son. "Well, if you're certain . . ." She didn't sound too sure, but she let the matter drop.

Vikonyx nudged Keres' shoulder with her nose. "I'll nap for now. Wake me after you meet with the Earl. I'd like to hear how it goes."

_Of course. Sleep well. _

Shaking herself and rolling her shoulders, Vikonyx prowled over to the wide, black opening, and easily leapt inside. A moment later, a sharp squeal echoed from the darkness within, a sure sign that she had surprised some poor servant in the process of finishing up with her bedding. This time Keres allowed herself a chuckle. Even Vassi's stern face showed faint amusement. Then she shook herself, "Now, I'm afraid that Fassel and I must be going. There are urgent matters for us to attend to. Sergeant Xander will show you to your room." She indicated the guard who had attempted to lift the saddle. "If you need anything, there will be a bell near the door. Ring it and a servant will be in to attend you." The woman inclined her head again. "Good evening, Miss Keres."

She turned crisply, striding back into the tower with seven of the guards in tow. Fassel flashed another brilliant grin in Keres' direction, then followed his mother. It was only after they had passed back through the door that the Sergeant turned to her. "If you'll follow me, Dragon Rider, I'll take you up to your room."

He turned and moved off toward a side door, which he pulled open before gesturing for her to move inside. "You'll be up in the tower, a few floors below the Earl's apartments. We usually keep this for visiting dignitaries, but since your regular lodgings were unavailable, we thought this would be the most suitable replacement." He cast a sidelong glance at her before asking, "Do you normally carry that saddle around?"

She shook her head. "Not usually up any stairs. We have racks for them out by where the dragons sleep. But Eragon used to make me carry the saddle around for exercise. I'd have to hike up and down hills with it."

That definitely got his attention. He whirled around, "Eragon?"

"Yeah, he was my master. I trained under him for over 15 years."

Xander blinked a few times, a broad smile breaking over his face. "Whoa, she you actually know him! What's he like?"

Keres laughed, "He's . . . different than most people would expect."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, most people think of a legend, you know? Someone larger than life. But he's a person. He has favorite foods and things he doesn't like. He gets frustrated and he laughs. I won't say if you saw him on the street, you wouldn't recognize him, because we know that isn't true. But he's pretty normal."

To her surprise, Xander was now nodding seriously. "I suppose that'd be right. I felt much the same about Earl David, before I came to work for him. I felt like he was different, special because he was an Earl. But now that I've gotten to know him, he's just like your average guy."

He led her up a spiral staircase, past rooms that branched off on either side. Finally, he halted at a landing decorated with a large painting of a farmhouse surrounded by fields of wheat. He pointed to one of two doors that opened off the landing. "That one is yours. If you need anything, please let the servants know."

She nodded, extending a hand toward him. "Thank you Sergeant."

He smiled, taking her hand in his and shaking it firmly. "You will be contacted when the Earl can see you. Best of luck, Dragon Rider."

* * *

Apologies for the break last week. Next update will be Sunday. Thanks all!


	62. Bonus Chapter 2: Evarincel

**Bonus Chapter 2**

**Evaríncel**

Evaríncel flared his wings as he shifted to a new position on the warm-grass ground. He stretched, tensing every muscle along his powerful frame, before turning and carefully settling down again. As he laid his head out on the ground, the white dragon was aware of the murmurs coming from the nearby crowd lined up to enter Dras Leona. He snorted, kicking up a puff of dust. The round-ear, short-life humans never seemed to tire of watching him. Ever since he had landed here earlier this morning to allow partner of his soul and life Thane to enter the shimmer-glass city, there had been a perpetual muttering from those gathered outside the gate. To the casual observer, Evaríncel was stoically ignoring the crowd. Privately, the white dragon was basking in the admiration of the men, women, and children who were watching him with such fascination.

It was not often that they got to see a dragon at such close quarters. No one was allowed to approach within a 5 mile radius of Sunvarda. The Dragon Riders jealously guarded their secrets, particularly where those secrets related to magic and the dragons. Certainly, many scholars had published works on the latter, but those were from a different age, and often referred to dragons as little more than "large reptiles." Aside from the elves, it seemed that most of the races were largely ignorant of the intelligence and cunning that was inherent to most dragons. For a few moments, Evaríncel amused himself with the thought of what might happen if world realized that dragons, especially bonded dragons, were every bit as intelligent as any of the other races. He supposed the prospect of a large, armored beast that could fly and breathe fire was terrifying enough without it being smart.

More importantly, as people believed him to be a dumb animal, they rarely tried to initiate conversation with him, which was perfectly alright as far as he was concerned. Let Thane deal with the tedious conversations and dialogues of everyday life. Evaríncel was content to listen and watch. He'd found that this was a much better way to gain information. All too often, speaking inhibited listened and learning. It struck him that the thought was rather profound and he hummed softly, pleased with himself.

A disturbance at the gate drew his attention and he opened a single, brilliant eye to observe the scene. Two of the guards were forcibly restraining a man who was fighting vigorously to escape. The man was shrieking at the top of his lungs for the guards to release him, but they held on stoically, looking somewhat bored with the man's struggles. The white dragon regarded the entire situation incuriously, wondering how long it would be before the guards got the man under control. The noise was quite loud and abrasive, not at all conducive to taking the nap he had been planning.

As a few more minutes went by and it became clear that the situation was not going to resolve itself, a thread of irritation began to worm its way into Evaríncel's mind. He voiced his displeasure quietly, with a low, rumbling growl that was barely audible. Finally, deciding that moving would be preferable to sitting here and watching the scene unfold, he rose to his feet, claws digging into the ground in a small expression of his annoyance. He swung his head in the direction of the gate and growled again, this time lifting his lips to reveal white fangs and ensuring that the sound was clearly audible. Silence fell almost immediately as both the man and the guards ceased their struggles to stare at him in dismay.

Unfurling his massive wings, the white dragon growled one last time before launching himself into the air. Within minutes, he had settled down atop one of the ramparts on the opposite side of the city. It had been amusing to watch the guards scatter as he landed atop the battlements, selecting a nice, sunny spot to warm himself. It did not escape him that it had been on these exact battlements, hundreds of years earlier, that the red dragon Thorn had sunned himself while the army of the Varden camped outside.

Saphira and Eragon had told the Riders many stories about lost-dragon Thorn and his rider, Murtagh Son-of-Morzan. Their lore was carefully embedded into the history of the new Dragon Riders. Eragon had even paid homage to them with a crimson star on the Rider's banner. However, Evaríncel was glad that he was here under much more desirable circumstances. After all, the spot was clear and the sun was pleasant upon his sparkling scales. Draping his tail down over the wall, he stretched out and closed his eyes, intending to resume his nap.

"Well met, Child-of-Flame."

The voice startled Evaríncel. Both eyes snapped open as he drew in a long, gusting breath, tasting the air around him. For a few seconds, he was puzzled. Then he made out a faint scent that emanated from the shadows beneath one of the nearest guard towers. As he turned his gaze upon it, he became aware of a pair of amber eyes that glittered at him from the darkness. A moment later, a small figure emerged. Though the woman was obviously old, she was no taller than a child. But this was no dwarf. Her proportions were smaller, her features more delicate. A curly mass of silver-gray hair hung around her face, but couldn't obliterate the numerous scratches and missing pieces that decorated her ears. It took only a few seconds for Evaríncel to realize what she was.

Inclining his head to her, he answered in kind. "We are well met indeed, Shape-Shifter."

The woman smiled, baring yellowed, pointed teeth at him. Then her silhouette blurred and shifted and, a moment later, a graying tabby cat sat where the woman had so recently stood. She padded toward him, stopping only a few feet away to sniff at him. "We have not met before, I think."

"No, we have not. I am Evaríncel, partner of Thane Fiachreson."

She dipped her head toward him. "And I am Night Watcher, Thistleclaw, and Waits in the Morning Shadows." She grinned at him again, "However, those are all long and inconvenient. You may simply call me Rauda."

"Rauda" He said contemplatively. "I take it you are the werecat who sits beside Lady Cianthral."

She she-cat blinked. "And I take it you are the dragon who usurped my sleeping spot. See? I too can make obvious statements." When Evaríncel didn't respond to the jab, she cocked her head to one side. "You do not sound like the dragons that I am used to speaking with."

He blinked a large eye at her, "Do you sound like your elders? I am a young dragon, from a young generation."

The comment seemed to amuse the werecat. "Young? I suppose you are, aren't you?" She chuckled. "I remember an age when we believed the dragons were going to become extinct. Now, I sit atop the walls of a rebuilt Dras Leona, being told I'm old by a hatching firebreather."

"I'm sure age is relative for your kind." Evaríncel said astutely.

She grinned at him again, displaying every single one of her pointed teeth. "Ah, so wisdom does come from the mouths of babes. Very clever, young Evaríncel." She glanced around, "Well, big as you are, I'm sure you can spare a section of wall for an old woman like me."

"Most certainly." He watched as she padded coolly past him, leapt upon onto the outer ledge of the wall, and then settled down in a spot a few feet away. There had been several werecats in Vrenbana, and now there was even one in Sunvarda, brought by Keres and Vikonyx, but they were not a species he encountered often. Though he liked werecats, he often found their roundabout way of speaking pointless. They were a finicky lot, easy to please, but also easy to anger. Resolving to keep an eye on the old one, he once again laid his head down against the stone and tried to drift off into sleep.

As he did so, he became aware of the part of his mind that was still connected to Thane. After years of training, it was now completely normal for them to share thoughts and experiences, and it had become a chore to close that link. As such, they were constantly in contact, even if they weren't actively paying attention to what the other was doing. As Evaríncel let his mind go blank, however, he caught a brief glimpse of a crowded market square, men and women bustling around, and a woman sitting opposite the table from Thane.

His partner of soul and life had been spending more and more time in the company of the young-face, golden-hair, Nikkal. Evaríncel did not begrudge him that. It was fitting that his young rider should enjoy the company of those his own age. Tarehlak and Nortavog had been good company, but they were much older and their tastes different greatly from Thane's. The hot tempered dwarf rarely sought the company of others and, though Nortavog was pleasant enough, she was still an urgal, and thus unused to the niceties of human speech. Nikkal was also from a noble family, and thus was the sort of well-educated person Thane would have been rubbing shoulders with had he remained in the palace.

At present, they were both enjoying a cool drink in one of the many squares that dotted the city. Evaríncel had almost drifted off when a single line of conversation made its way through his drowsy consciousness.

"So, that new rider you have, is she really the daughter of the Sorceress?" The question was asked casually enough, but Thane, and through him, Evaríncel, could sense the sharp interest in her voice.

That heightened the white-dragon's focus. Information was one of many things that the Dragon Riders zealously guarded. Keres might not have been a secret, but that didn't mean that it would be wise to bandy about her life story. She would be quite the curiosity for the Magician's Guild if they learned too much about her. It was bound to happen eventually, but Evaríncel didn't want it to be any of the Dragon Riders who hastened the event. Luckily, Thane seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Taking care to keep his tone and face neutral, he glanced at her, "Why do you ask?"

Nikkal shrugged. "One of the older magicians was talking about it at dinner the other day. He was warning us to watch out for her."

"Watch out for her? Why?"

"Well, the Sorceress is dangerous. The rumors about the experiments she was doing . . . they aren't exactly what you'd call pleasant."

Evaríncel snorted. What little information had likely reached the ears of the Magician's Guild was undoubtedly garbled and incomplete. The details behind the experiments were known only to a select few people. Even among the elves and dwarves, they weren't exactly bandied about. Even most Riders didn't know exactly what had been going on in the caves they had found after the Sorceress' disappearance. Thane was clearly of a similar mind.

"Rumors? Surely you don't listen to rumors, Nikkal." He scoffed.

She blinked. "Normally I wouldn't, but with rogue magic users, you can never tell. Anyone who doesn't join the Guild usually has a reason for not doing so."

_Yes. _Evaríncel thought wryly. _Like they don't want to be stuck in a gilded cage. Or maybe they just don't want to be watched over every minute of every day._

This time, the thought was so strong that Thane was aware of it. The white dragon could feel agreement in his partner's mind, but also the faint annoyance at the intruding thoughts. Instead, Thane leaned back in his seat. "Whatever the Sorceress may have been, that doesn't have anything to do with Keres. She's a good Dragon Rider, a great swordswoman, and a strong spellcaster. More importantly, she's one of the most honorable people you'd ever meet." Evaríncel couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at his rider's vehement defense of the young woman. Ever since their fight with the Sorceress, Thane had felt a certain level of indebtedness to the white-haired rider. Moreover, Evaríncel suspected that his partner of soul and life enjoyed her company greatly. With Nikkal, he had to constantly be on his guard to avoid letting slip any information he wasn't supposed to. With Keres, he could speak openly. It would not be incorrect to say that Keres and Thane had become something close to friends during the brief times their schedules had placed them in contact.

Of course, Nikkal had no way of knowing about Thane's loyalty. As the incident with the Sorceress had taken place inside the territory of the dwarves, the Dragon Riders had been under no pressure to share any information with the Magician's Guild. In fact, Evaríncel suspected that most of the details had been quickly hushed up to prevent any outsiders from learning of the encounter. Which, admittedly, was probably for the best.

Evaríncel was just about to pull back from his partner's mind when he heard Thane say, "You should meet her. I think that you'd like her." The young man might not have been able to recognize the shadow that passed over Nikkal's face, but Evaríncel most definitely did, and he laughed to himself. _Humans. _Then he amended himself. _Thane. _


	63. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Thane's brow was furrowed in concentration as he stared down at the line of glyphs he had written. He had begun writing in the common tongue, then translated each word into the Ancient Language. The carefully crafted symbols represented his best calligraphy and he was determinedly triple checking his translation. Next to the paper sat the fourth in his line of completed sculptures. It was somewhat larger than its predecessors, despite the fact that it was the smallest of the four birds he had carved.

The first three attempts sat across the room on his mantle. The first was a stately raven, who studied his surroundings with intelligent, wooden eyes. The second was a wren, its wings spread in flight. The third, a hawk who sat imperiously upon his perch, eyeing the other two with faint disdain. And now Thane looked at the bluebird that sat on the table in front of him. Its head was cocked and it regarded him curiously, as if he were some new oddity it had never encountered before. Thane had never before been seized by the urge to endow any of his creations with runes from the Ancient Language, but this one seemed fair enough to warrant the extra effort.

Finally, convinced that he had the translation right, he raised his left hand over the bird and began to intone the spell he would need. His goal was to transcribe one of his favorite poems on the back of the bird. The poem, fittingly enough, featured a bluebird prominently in its verses. The main theme was that a purpose filled life was a happy life. Thane wasn't entirely certain if that was true for everyone, but he thought that the general idea was a good one. His palm glowed as he cast the spell and the wood along the bird's wings began to shift as clean, neatly formed runes appeared in the grain. It took a few minutes for him to intone the entire spell, including the poem itself, but, as he lowered his hand, he was pleased with the results.

He had just leaned back in his seat when someone cleared their throat behind him. He jumped, whirling around. He should have been alone in the fortress since Tarehlak, Nortavog, and Keres were all out on assignments. To his surprise, the voice had come from the large mirror that hung on his wall. Eragon's face stared out at him from the smooth surface. The older rider was sitting in his office, a glass of wine in his hand. Currently, he was regarding Thane with something close to amusement. The younger rider scrambled to his feet, "Eragon-elda!"

Eragon inclined his head, "Good evening Thane. My apologies for startling you. However, I was wondering if you might have time for a chat."

Thane had to spot himself from raising an eyebrow. Eragon never called anyone just to "chat," much less a relatively inexperienced rider. Wondering exactly what he had done to warrant such attention, Thane swung his chair around in front of the mirror and retook his seat. "Of course sir."

There were a few, uncomfortable seconds of silence as the older rider regarded him. Thane had the distinct impression that he was being sized up. He wasn't prone to nervousness, however, there was something singularly unsettling about having the strongest and most senior Dragon Rider study him so intently. The younger Rider feverishly racked his brain for anything in his recent reports or actions that might have warranted an intervention from Eragon himself. Usually, it was Arya who handled such issues. However, Maira had trained him will and Thane waited silently, unwilling to speak before Eragon did.

A faint smile touched the brown-haired man's mouth. "If only I'd had such patience at your age." He took a sip of his drink. "Tarehlak informed me of your recent encounter with Nikkal." Something about the way he pronounced "encounter" made Thane's cheeks flush slightly. "He was concerned that the stories she was conveying would negatively color your perception of Keres and, by default, our organization, which took her in."

"I like Keres." He had blurted the words out before the thought was fully formed. Eragon's eyebrows rose slightly as Thane rushed to explain. "She's a good person. She wants to help people. She saved Evaríncel and me. And . . . and . . . she's just . . . likable." He finished, somewhat lamely. Even as he was speaking, he realized that he hadn't addressed Eragon's concern at all. He did like Keres. However, he knew, as all the Riders knew, that Keres had come to them already nearly fluent in the Ancient Language and with substantial magical abilities. He had to admit that he had wondered, from time to time, exactly what skills she had picked up during her time with her mother.

As if he'd read those last few thoughts, Eragon frowned contemplatively. "And yet, there are some doubts, aren't there?" When Thane didn't answer, Eragon nodded. "Don't feel bad. We all had those questions at one point or another. However, do you think that, had we not found sufficient answers to those questions and doubts, we would have agreed to train her in such a capacity?"

"No sir, I have no doubt that you would have investigated."

"And yet, there is still a question in your eyes."

"I just . . ." He began, before changing track. "Nikkal told me about some of the experiments the Sorceress was performing. But Keres, what she is, what she can do, makes me wonder if there wasn't something more to those experiments. And knowing what type of woman she is . . . if she's really Keres' mother . . . could Keres be dangerous without actually knowing it?" He let the question hang.

Eragon cocked his head, one eyebrow rising so high it almost disappeared beneath his hair. "You don't think Keres is dangerous now?"

"Of course she is. But I'm talking about spells she might not be aware of. I can't think of any other way you could give anyone the look of a human with the speed and strength of an elf than with magic. What if the Sorceress placed other spells on her?"

Eragon sighed, rubbing his temples. "What you're asking for isn't common knowledge Thane. The details of her experiments aren't very well known, even among the elves and dwarves. And Keres' connection to them isn't known anywhere outside of our order."

Thane lowered his gaze, feeling distinctly ashamed of his curiosity. "I understand sir. I just"

"However," Eragon cut across him forcefully. "We put you into this situation by asking you to take Nikkal on your mission. You have given us unprecedented access to a member of the Magician's Guild. Moreover, you've established something resembling a cordial relationship, which no other Dragon Rider has managed to do." The head Dragon Rider shifted forward slightly. "However, you being so close to this girl means that the Magician's Guild may attempt to influence you. This might be the beginning of such a campaign, and for you to have such doubts about our operation would be detrimental to the solidity of the order. I don't want you assuming the worst just because of the rumors she spouts in your direction."

There was an edge in Eragon's voice and his face showed that he thoroughly disapproved of such talk. He leaned back in his seat. "First, I want your word that you will never reveal this information to anyone without the express consent of myself, Arya, or whoever follows me as leader of the Dragon Riders. You must swear in the Ancient Language."

That in itself was enough to make Thane pause. Those sorts of oaths were binding and Eragon wasn't the type to ask for them frivolously. Still, Thane had asked. And he wanted answers. He swore, letting the words roll easily off his tongue. Only when he had finished did Eragon nod again.

"Let's see, where to begin. Well, I suppose we should start with the two stories of what the Sorceress was actually doing. Nearly thirty years before Keres was born, we discovered one of her lairs. It was a complete accident. A rock slide high in the mountains created a new entrance to the tunnel system she was using to house her operations. A team of elves, dwarves, and two of our riders, Arya and Logrundag, were dispatched to search it. They, along with King Orik, myself, and a few top advisers from our respective races, are the only people who know the full scale of what was found in those tunnels. Any information that made it back to the Magician's Guild was likely a garbled version overheard by some underling, presumably in the dwarf kingdom since the elves don't have the same portent for gossip."

He set his glass down on the table, tenting his fingers. "From what we have gathered, they received a version of events insinuating that the Sorceress' goal was to find a way to duplicate the elves' immortality. It's a story that makes sense. For hundreds of years, human magicians have been trying to find a way to extend their lifespans. Time is the one thing they can't have more of, thus they always want it." He shook his head, "Their version is only partly true. Based on the notes we recovered, it looks like her true purpose was to discover what it was that gave each race their respective abilities. Her attention, it seems, was focused on the humans, elves, and dwarves. She considered the kull to be a primitive race, unworthy of study."

Thane blinked. What gave the races their respective abilities? It wasn't something he had ever considered. It had never occurred to him to question why the elves were fast and strong or why the dwarves were hardy. They simply were.

But Eragon wasn't finished. "To explain the full details of her experiments would require far more time than I have. Suffice to say that her studies and discoveries were comparable to those we've found in some of the manuscripts from the Old Order. Simply put, she was studying the various abilities of each race. Why is it that humans are so short lives, but dwarves can live for centuries, and elves can live forever? Why are the humans so prolific when it takes the other races decades to increase their numbers? Why do the dwarves have stronger muscles and bones than the other two?"

He paused, seeing the look on Thane's face. "I can assure you, they were questions which had never crossed my mind either. However, I'm told that several of the elves find the study intriguing. The important thing is that it looks like the Sorceress found an answer to those questions. Her studies focused on manipulating those base ingredients which make up living things to alter their physical abilities. This, as you likely have guessed, is were Keres comes in. The experiments that we found showed that she met only limited success in her attempts to manipulate full-grown subjects. The amount of energy it would take is . . . incalculable. So it appears that she turned her attention to smaller things, less complex things."

"Things like children." Thane finished for him.

"Less than children." Eragon corrected him. "There is reason to believe that the changes made to Keres were made before she was even born." In response to the look of shock that fell over the younger rider's face, Eragon spread his hands, "Think about it. We've studied the eggs of birds and reptiles. They all begin as small, simplistic creatures that eventually grow into the hallmarks of youth, and later, adulthood. Assuming that we follow the same cycle, then wouldn't we also start off the same way? A simple creature is easier to manipulate than a complex one."

"So," Thane finally managed, "you're telling me that she was . . . created . . . sculpted to be what she is today?" He glanced over at his own sculptures and shuddered. He couldn't imagine forcing his own will and ideas onto another living creature in such a way. It just seemed wrong.

"That is correct. And you were also correct in suspecting that there were other spells on her. I know most of the Dragon Riders assume that she was intended to be like Elva was. In a way, that is correct. I have no doubt that the Sorceress probably looked at what I did to her and reasoned that I was able to cast the spell because she was a baby. Otherwise, it might have taken more energy than I had to spare. There is no doubt that Keres was intended to be a weapon for her mother. Several of the spells that I removed from her were designed to give her abilities that would allow her a measure of control over others. There were also spells that bound her to her mother, spells that would have made it impossible for Keres to refuse certain orders or commands. But there is also no doubt that she is now completely and totally in control of herself. Now, she's as free as you or I."

Thane sat back in his chair, slowly trying to digest everything he had just been told. It seemed a bit far-fetched, but then again, almost everything about Thane's life would seem far-fetched to someone who didn't understand his world. Besides, he had never known Eragon to lie. And if the best magical minds thought that Keres was free of her mother's influence, then there was no real reason to doubt them. He nodded a few times, "I think I understand."

"Truly?" The ghost of a smile was playing on Eragon's lips again.

"Well," Thane admitted, "some of the scientific stuff went over my head. But as far as the experiments and what Keres is, and her relationship to her mother's work, I think I see the whole picture. She might be a product of her mother's work, but that doesn't necessarily mean that she is as evil as the work itself."

Eragon smiled approvingly. "Quite right. Murtagh and Thorn might have been a product of Galbatorix's cruelty and malice, but they were not anywhere near as evil as the one who commanded them. In the end, they were necessary to his downfall. Something good can always come out of something bad, if given the chance. Besides," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "when has Keres every allowed anyone to tell her who she should be?"

To that, Thane had no answer. A new voice came through the mirror and Eragon glanced off to one side. Returning his gaze to the young man, he inclined his head, "Now, if you will excuse me, Thane, I have business I must attend to."

"Of course. And thank you, Eragon-elda, for speaking with me."

There was a pause as the older Dragon Rider stared back at his younger counterpart. "We have placed you in a difficult position, Thane. I appreciate the discretion and resilience you have shown in it. May the stars watch over you."

With that, the image faded and the mirror cleared to show only Thane's reflection looking back at him. He blew out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. When he had disclosed some of the details of Nikkal's comments to Tarehlak three days ago, he hadn't thought that they would make it all the way back to Eragon. He had asked them in a rhetorical sense, wanting to know the dwarf's opinion on the matter. He had never expected a full explanation like the one he had just received. And yet, he felt infinitely better for having received it. Though the news had not necessarily been pleasant, knowing lessened the anxiety. Of course, he couldn't tell Nikkal any of what he had just heard, but at least he would know. He would know what was truth and what was fiction.

Strangely, knowing what Keres was didn't really change his perception of her. If anything, it gave him a new sense of respect for the young woman. Putting your past behind you was never easy, but her overcoming what she was seemed much greater. Thane had always lived firmly convinced that he was as nature intended him to be. To know that you weren't what you were supposed to be, that you were what someone else had decided you would be, must have been extremely difficult. And he had no doubt Keres knew. The anger he had seen in her as she faced down her mother had been deep-rooted and vehement. But she had overcome even that. She had decided that, while her mother had dictated what she was, the woman couldn't dictate who she was. Perhaps that was why the young woman always seemed so head-strong. She was asserting her control in the one way she could, by dictating her own path.

As the thought crossed his mind, an image flashed through his head, so clear and vivid that he might have been looking at a picture. He sat upright, closing his eye briefly so as to fix the image firmly in his mind. A broad smile broke over his face. Yes, that was right, wasn't it? Rising to his feet, he turned the chair around and moved it back in front of his desk. With a few deft motions, he threw open a drawer and selected medium-sized block of wood. Setting it on the table, he pulled his carving tools from where they sat in their case. Still grinning, he set to work, trying to free his image from beneath its grainy prison while he waited for his partner to return from the hunt.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's favorited the story, and a big shout out to those who've reviewed. I am getting all your comments and taking them into consideration, even if I'm terrible at responding to them. See you all again next week.


	64. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

It was over an hour before a servant appeared at Keres' door and informed her that the Earl was ready to greet her. The wait hadn't really bothered her. The room she had been given was spacious and well-furnished, particularly where the curtained off tub was concerned. She had taken great care to scrub herself clean and set out a fresh set of clothes before finally being introduced to Earl David. The woman who knocked on her door looked rather nervous as she escorted Keres through the fortress. The staircase spiraled up and up and the servant was somewhat winded by the time they finally emerged onto the highest landing. The woman gestured toward the door and Keres knocked firmly.

"Enter" The voice was deep and gruff.

Keres pushed the door open, stepping into a well-lit office. Her first impression was of the room. The furnishings were almost entire wooden, and carved in a style that Keres knew was exclusive to Palancar Valley. A massive, bear-skin rug covered most of the floor. The story of how Earl David and a few of his guards had killed the beast, which had been raiding their flocks, was well-known throughout the country. Keres had privately thought that the size of the creature had likely been exaggerated. However, if this was the monster, she had to admit that there was truth to the tale. There were several paintings on the wall, each of them depicting one of the men who had held the office of Earl in the valley. They circled the room, culminating in a giant picture directly behind the main desk. The figure was one she knew well. Roran Stronghammer stared down at her, his face set in a frown and his eyes dark. He was somewhat older than he had been in the fairths Eragon had made, but the features were unmistakable.

And beneath the picture, in a glass case, sat the hammer. Keres' eyes brightened with interest. Everyone knew the stories of what Roran had done with that hammer. It was, all considered, a bit underwhelming to finally see it now. The handle was wooden and worn smooth by years of use. A few small, dark stains littered the worn material and Keres had a sneaking suspicion that they might have been blood. Even with the head, it was considerably smaller than the swords or axes that most men would choose to carry into battle. However, that made the legend all the more impressive. Killing men with such a weapon, particularly a blunt weapon, would have taken quite a bit more skill and grit. You had to get up close and personal to smash someone's head or chest with a hammer. Inwardly, Keres whistled. Eragon might have been incredibly skilled, but the man who could kill with this weapon . . . well, she was glad she had never had to face him in battle.

The entire thought had taken only a few seconds, but as Keres snapped back to attention, she realized that she hadn't addressed the Earl. Luckily, he seemed to be absorbed in a sheaf of paper on his desk and was scribbling furiously on it. Deciding to remain silent until she was addressed, Keres busied herself studying Earl David Coltson. His hair might have been solid black at one point, but now it was shot through with streaks of gray. To her surprise, she found that the effect was quite pleasant. What little she could see of his face was strong and well-made. His clothes, far from being lavish, were relatively plain, though they were of good quality and make.

The quill touched returned to the table as the man finished his notes. He looked up and she saw his expression brighten, going from a faint scowl to a wide grin. "Ah, you must be the Dragon Rider!"

She nodded, smiling at him. "I am Keres. It is a pleasure to meet you, Earl David." If he was put off by her appearance, he didn't show it. His smile never wavered, and Keres felt a surge of approval. This man had an honest face and bright intelligent eyes. More importantly, he looked like a man who didn't tolerate foolishness. Perhaps that was a trait that ran in the family, she mused.

Gesturing for her to sit, he shuffled the papers, placing them in a neat stack before setting them aside. "I hope you've found your quarters to be adequate?"

"Yes, of course sir. The view is absolutely wonderful."

The compliment didn't go unnoticed. She saw a gleam of pride in his eyes, "I'm glad you like it. Carvahall has done quite well for herself."

"I've only ever seen the images Eragon made of it." Keres said with a faint grin. "I must say, it is rather more impressive in its current state."

"Oh, you've seen the original Carvahall?" The interest in his voice was clear. "Maps of it are pretty rare and quite expensive to come by."

"Certainly. I was Eragon's apprentice and he made several fairths of his home and the surrounding area." When she had been small, her master had often regaled her with stories of his childhood spent with Roran and Garrow. These had always been accompanied with images of the various places and people he was referencing.

"You were his apprentice?" The delight in David's voice was evident. The Earl leaned forward eagerly, a glow of interest sparking in his eyes. "I didn't know he had trained any apprentices."

She nodded. "I was his first and, thus far, only apprentice. I'm also his adopted daughter, so getting the chance to finally visit Carvahall has been rather special."

That caught David's attention. He raised an eyebrow, "Adopted daughter, you say? Then that means we're related now, however distantly." He extended a hand to her. "Welcome to the family."

She laughed, taking it. "I'm glad to be a part of it. Eragon still talks about Roran and Palancar Valley quite often. He loves Vrenbana, but Carvahall will always, to some extent, be his home. That's why, when I heard you were having some trouble, I felt honor bound to come and help."

His expression sobered now and he clasped his hands together on his desk. "And we're grateful for the assistance. We deal with bandits on a pretty regular basis. That's unavoidable when you've got the type of trading traffic we do, but these are worse than any I've ever encountered before. We can't seem to pin them down. All our reports indicate they're a relatively small band, only 6-10 strong. Of course, this makes them difficult to track, especially since they seem to know the terrain pretty well. We're fairly certain that they have a hideout or someplace where they store all the loot they steal, but we haven't had any luck finding it." His forehead furrowed. "They're either extremely lucky, or very good, and I don't typically hold much store by luck."

Keres nodded a few times, digesting the information. "Do we have any kind of profile on them at all? Who do they hit? What do they steal? What sorts of weapons are they using?"

Opening a drawer on his left, the Earl reached inside, withdrew a sheaf of papers, and pushed them toward her. "These are the reports we collected from those who've been robbed. A few things stand out. None of the men are mounted, which makes me suspect that they're operating from some of the more rugged terrain where horses probably couldn't go. It looks like they target smaller groups of travelers, and not just those here to trade. And they're not too picky about what they steal. We've heard everything from pelts to coin to jewelry. However, all the loot has been things they can take to another city and sell with relative ease, or food that they can simply eat. Farmers with livestock get through the passes just fine, as do most caravans larger than 7 or 8 people."

Riffling through the pieces of paper, Keres frowned thoughtfully. "But they haven't killed anyone yet, right?"

Earl David shook his head. "No. From what we've gathered, they're a pretty nasty looking bunch. Most people aren't anywhere near skilled enough to be comfortable taking on a group of armed men while outnumbered. The vast majority of people have just given up their goods and been allowed to pass."

"The vast majority?"

"There have been a few cases where people have fought back. The bandits didn't kill them, just roughed them up a bit."

"Well that makes sense." Keres commented. "Murder carries a much stiffer penalty than robbery or banditry. It's significant, however, in that it means that these guys haven't given up the notion that they could be caught." She brushed a lock of hair back from her face, "And you haven't managed to make any contact with the guards?"

"None. The minute they so much as smell a uniform, they melt away into the darkness. We have some good trackers, but they can only do so much when it's dark. Evening is when these guys are most active, and it's hard to follow a trail very far before the sun sets. The mornings are less frequent, and we suspect they're more to keep people, and us, guessing than anything else."

"And when was the last morning raid?"

"Nearly a month ago."

"Mmm, then they're likely due for another one relatively soon."

There was silence for a few moments. Finally, Keres pushed the papers back toward him. "Well, this certainly is interesting, but not, I think, an insurmountable problem. It might take a few days, but I'll see if I can't track them down. When I find them, how would you like for me to handle them?"

He considered the question for a few seconds. "Ideally? I'd like to have them back here for trial. Public examples are always the best, as far as this sort of riff-raff is concerned."

"Understood, I'll make sure that you're updated if anything happens. For now, I'd best return to my quarters. It looks like I'll have a long day tomorrow." She rose to her feet adding, "And it looks like you'll have a long night tonight."

He smiled ruefully, "The paperwork never ends. But I must thank you for such a welcome distraction. Rarely do I have the pleasure of conversing with such amicable and competent guests."

She inclined her head, "I was thinking much the same, Earl David."

He waved a hand in her direction. "David please. We're family, after all. And I hear enough of that title each day to make me right sick of it."

"As you wish then, David. If you require anything else of me, please let me know." She had already turned and was halfway to the door before his voice stopped her. "Actually, Keres, if I may?"

She turned, looking back at him, a quizzical expression on her face.

He shifted in his seat. "I've been getting reports of strange lights at the Igualda Falls for some years now. Thus far, I haven't been able to validate them, and since they've come from lone travelers and hermits mostly, my people haven't put much store by them. The Magician's Guild opened an investigation, but closed it after a few days, concluding that there was nothing to the rumors. Still, the sightings persist. Since you're already here, if you could take a look at them . . ." He let the sentence trail off.

Initially, Keres frowned. The name was familiar to her. She had heard it somewhere and knew that there was significance attached to it. She searched her brain for several seconds before it finally came to her. _Katrina. _Roran's wife, Katrina, had lost her mother when the latter went over the falls. The event had been quite significant in that it had played a huge part in Roran's journey from Carvahall to join the Varden. Sloan had actually betrayed the village to the Razak, rather than let Roran take Katrina into The Spine and near the falls. Her face clearing, Keres nodded. "I can check it out after I handle this bandit problem. I can't guarantee I'll find anything if the Guild didn't, but I will at least scout out the area." She noted, with some interest, the sudden look of unease that had entered his gaze. He had spoken of it airily enough, but she sensed that there was more than a little tension surrounding this particular rumor. That could only mean one thing: He suspected magic.

At her words, the unease vanished and he smiled at her again. "Thank you, Keres. You've taken quite a weight off my shoulders. And if there is anything you need during your stay here, anything at all, please let me know."

She inclined her head yet again before turning, and exiting through the door. As it closed behind her, David Coltson stared at it, a thoughtful expression erasing the easy smile. He prided himself on his ability to assess and read people. It was a skill that he had honed through years of meeting delegations and diplomats and various people of import. There were tells all over the body that expressed the state of mind and skills of the being who inhabited it. The truth of this woman screamed up at him from every line of her frame and from the depths of those inscrutable white eyes. She was a hunter, bred and built for war. As he turned his attention back to the piles of paper that littered his desk, the Earl reflected that he almost felt sorry for the bandits he had set her after. Almost.

#

Only the faintest trace of light was visible above the top of The Spine when Keres slipped quietly out of Carvahall the next morning. She made no attempt to conceal her presence in the off chance that someone in the village tipped off the bandits as to the whereabouts of travelers. However, she had done her best to conceal her identity. She had a quiver filled with arrows slung across her back, along with Eragon's bow. Initially, she had been concerned that such an exquisite piece might attract attention, but then she had realized that, unless you got up close, it would be indistinguishable from the imitation elven bows that frequently showed up in the markets. The elf-style was always fashionable, even if the bows made by human craftsmen were far inferior to their original counterparts.

Skraván lay wrapped within a dark cloth and sat high on her shoulders atop a small rucksack. It wasn't the most ready position, but she felt reasonably certain that she could get to it if she needed to. With any luck, people would assume that she was a hunter slipping out of town early to get a head start on the day. She had done everything she could to reinforce this assumption by foregoing her usual style of dress in favor of that which huntsmen usually wore. Even her colored locks were carefully tied back so that they wouldn't be visible under the cowl.

There were a few people in the street, mostly shop owners and vendors getting ready to start the day. She could see lights flickering in the windows of several of the inns as she climbed the short slope up toward the mountains. Vikonyx was still dozing, having woken up only briefly to converse with Keres before the girl had left Stonetree Hill. Of course, if her Rider needed her, the dragon would no doubt be instantly awake and winging her way into the mountains, but Keres thought that was unlikely. Bandits were pretty far down on the list of things she was concerned about. Right now, in fact, she was much more worried about finding them. She had never picked up Eragon's skill in tracking. Not that she was bad, by any means, but patience was a necessity to be a good tracker, and it was something that she lacked.

As she entered the treeline, Keres adjusted her course, angling off toward where she knew the most recent attack had taken place, nearly a week and a half ago. It was likely that there would be no evidence left, but she felt honor bound to look, just in case. All of the robberies had taken place on one side of the mountains, but that didn't necessarily help her. That still meant that she had hundreds of miles in which the bandits could be hiding, and no guarantee that she'd even discover a trace of them. Her best bet was to canvas the areas where known attacks had occurred and try to discern a pattern for herself. Maybe they preferred to ambush people in places with specific natural features such as ravines or overhangs.

Of course, if she was particularly lucky, there might be another robbery while she was out searching. That would give her a fresh trail to follow. The guards of Carvahall might not be able to track people in the dark, but Keres was confident that she could. It would be long and tedious work, and it would no doubt irritate her, but she could probably do it. In that case, however, she would likely ask the men who came to investigate the incident to accompany her, or she would mark the trail so that they could follow her. She didn't need backup, but she wouldn't turn it down, if it was handy.

The sun had cleared the horizon by the time she finally reached the spot of the most recent attack. As she had expected, rain in the last week had completely obliterated any signs of the robbery. The landscape didn't provide very many clues either. This particular path was straight as an arrow and the sides were hemmed in by thick trees. The forest continued right up to the road, with the closest of the trees actually casting shadows across the entire space. It would have been no difficult task to hide behind some of the larger trunks and then surprise travelers as they passed. Moreover, the straightness of the trail meant that the bandits would see their quarry coming from a mile away. She fixed the image in her mind, jotting down a few notes in a notebook she carried, before slipping back into the trees.

It took her nearly half the day to reach the next site. Even with her speed and magical abilities, which she used only sparingly, the hilly, mountainous terrain presented a challenge. There were cliffs that had to be scaled, ridges that had to be crested, and thickets that had to be cut through. Every time she dared to use magic, she had to stop and cast her mind about into the area around her to ensure that she was completely alone. It wouldn't do to have someone see her using magic. It would negate the effort she had taken to disguise herself. Worse, it might attract the Magician's Guild to investigate, which would ruin her search and likely send the bandits underground.

She stopped only once, to drink from one of the many, fast-flowing streams that ran into the valley, and to grab a few bites of dried meat and fruits. The journey was pleasant enough, even if there had been no sign of her prey. The thought that Eragon might have walked these very hills in his youth delighted her, and she took special joy in noting the various natural features that she passed. Most of the landmarks Eragon remembered were either completely erased by time or vastly altered.

Vikonyx contacted her once, to inform her that the dragon as going hunting on the opposite side of the valley. They had taken special care that the bandits not find out that a Dragon Rider was in the area. The knowledge might easily spook them into laying low until Keres and Vikonyx departed. Otherwise she was utterly alone in the wilderness. She did chance across the odd traveler and, at one point, she nearly stumbled onto a sizeable caravan of wagons and carts heading down one of the paths into the valley. These she had avoided, following the smaller groups only for a short while before breaking off to continue her trek. News of the bandits must have traveled, for she saw swords at the hip of every man. Whether they could actually use them was a completely different story, but sometimes the mere appearance of force was enough to forestall a robbery.

She reached the second site as the sun was beginning to brush the tops of the mountains. Hastily canvasing the sight as the light died, she frowned. At first glance, there was very little to connect this location to the first one. Compared to the woody terrain she had seen before, this pass was relatively bare of large trees. Huge boulders and rocks littered the area, forcing the path to wind around the biggest of them like some large snake. Small shrubs and patches of moss grew sporadically on the grey stone. But there had to be some common feature. There had to be something she was missing. Keres placed a hand against one of the boulders. It was warm to the touch. Around the southern part of Vrenbana, there were large, wild cats that would sun themselves atop rocks like this.

_Cats? _And then she saw the connection. These rocks would serve to shield people from prying eyes just as well as the huge trees she had observed earlier. In fact, if she had to mount an ambush, this would be an ideal place to do it. The winding trail meant that it would be impossible to see more than a few meters ahead at any given time. For a coordinated force, it would be a simple matter to surround an enemy without them being any the wiser. It wasn't a particularly inspired tactic, but executed swiftly and with any degree of force, it had a good chance of being successful in terrain like this. It might behoove her to find areas like this to walk through, in the hope that she might stumble across an ambush in the process of being set.

She glanced up at the sun, estimating that she had under an hour of daylight left. If she ran, it would be possible to get back to Stonetree Hill within two or three hours. But that would be a waste of time. She had her camping gear with her. Besides, lighting a fire this late at night might attract the attention of the bandits and get them to come to her. Of course, there was no point in having a fire if there was nothing to cook over it. She had a bow, and she intended to use it. Searching around with her mind, Keres located a small herd of deer a half mile south of her. If she was careful, she could pick one of them off from such a distance that it would be impossible that they would notice her.

Unslinging her bow, she moved away from the pass, until she had once again found underbrush thick enough to shelter her. With measured steps, she picked her way through the ever-darkening forest. She had to be especially careful now. There were loose rocks that would shift under her feet and branches that would crack and snap as she moved past. Fifteen minutes later she was staring down at the group. There were seven deer in all, a buck, five sizeable does, and two who fawns who stood beside their mothers on spindle legs. Searching the herd, Keres selected a doe that stood slightly off to one side. She had no fawn with her, but she looked sleek and healthy as she cropped the grass.

Mentally measuring the distance between them, Keres began to raise the bow, nocking an arrow to the string.

"How about you drop that bow and put your hands in the air?"

Keres froze. The deer looked up, their heads turning in her direction before they bolted, vanishing into the trees like ghosts. The young Dragon Rider let out a breath. The voice had come from somewhere to her right. She turned her head fractionally and was able to make out a dark figure standing next to the trunk of a massive oak. She swore softly, furious that she had allowed someone else to get the jump on her. She had been careless, not expecting to find any real adversaries here. Moreover, she had been so concentrated on the hunt, she had allowed an actual enemy to sneak up on her. She could practically hear Eragon's scolding voice in her head.

Immediately, Vikonyx was touching her mind. The contact was stronger now, the dragon must have returned to Stonetree Hill from hunting. Keres could already sense that her partner was climbing into the sky, rushing toward her with all haste.

_Easy. _Keres told her. _I'm pretty sure I can handle this. _

"Isn't that thought what got you into this mess?" Came the reply.

Wincing inwardly, Keres agreed. _Touché. Still, don't drop down on them just yet. I want to feel this situation out. _

"Come now love, we don't have all day. Drop the weapon." The voice was outwardly pleasant, but Keres could hear the amusement underlying the words. Whatever his intentions might be, this man was likely anything but pleasant. She cast out with her mind, trying to determine whether this new foe was a magician or not. To her surprise, she met no resistance. The man's mind was not even guarded. She caught a few rapid emotions and thoughts from the brief contact. Her eyes widened. _Oh you're kidding me. _

"You heard him, now, put the bow down, nice and slow." This time the voice came from her left and she cast a quick glance around her, picking out the numerous shapes that were just visible in the darkening trees. She blinked several times, unable to completely believe what was happening.

She could feel Vikonyx' shock through their connection. The dragon was every bit as surprised and astonished as she was. "No" The dragon whispered, "It can't be."

"We won't ask again, drop the weapon girl." This time the words were cracked like a whip and carried the unmistakable tone of a man who was used to being obeyed.

Keres turned her head to stare incredulously at the speaker. _He's actually serious. _She couldn't help herself. She doubled over, laughing so hard she thought that her ribs might crack. Though she maintained her grip on the bow, she wasn't entirely certain she could have nocked and fired in her present state. This was just too bizarre. Through streaming eyes, she saw the would-be robbers exchanging puzzled looks. One of them took a menacing step toward her.

"Oy now. You won't be laughing when I put my knife in your gut."

She waved a hand at him, struggling to keep her feet as her sides heaved. "No. No, really, I'm sorry. It's just . . . you're actually . . . actually . . ." It was nearly a full minute before she managed to get her laughter under a modicum of control. The entire time, she was aware of the growing unease in the group that surrounded her. She suspected that hysterical laughter was not quite the reaction they had been anticipating. Hiccupping and snorting, she finally managed to say. "I'm sorry. I really am. But you must have the worst luck ever."

She couldn't quite wipe the grin off her face, so she pulled off the glove of her right hand and raised it, calling on her magic until they could all see the silver patch shining there. "In the name of the Dragon Riders, I order you to drop your weapons or be forcibly relieved of them."

She had the immense satisfaction of watching their faces change from puzzled to a mixture of horror and terror. Keres had been unaware that a human face lose its color quite so quickly or completely. Six weapons hit the ground simultaneously. "Thank you." She said simply. Removing a length of rope from her pack, she held it up and murmured, "Malthinae." The rope shot from her hand like a striking snake and quickly looped itself around the arms of the men, binding them together in a neat line. As she examined the knots, Keres explained. "Now, let's get back to Kuasta so that you can face justice for your crimes and I can be on my merry way."

"But" One of the men began, but more than one of his companions shot him a glare.

Raising her eyebrows, Keres continued, "Of course, if that is disagreeable, I could always have my partner deal with you. I must warn you though, she's in a bit of a bad mood at present. She's not particularly fond of seeing me threatened at knifepoint."

"That" Vikonyx put in suddenly, "is debatable. Especially since you put yourself into that situation."

Ignoring the dragon, Keres shrugged. "I suppose the choice is up to you, but I think a prison of stone would be better than a prison of fire." The words had the desired effect. The prospect of facing down a dragon seemed to take what little fight was left in the men. Within moments, she had them stumbling down the mountain in a line, like so many tethered donkeys. A few minutes later, she heard a thunderous concussion overhead and glanced up to see Vikonyx dark form soaring overhead through the breaks in the trees. When the dragon finally spoke again, she sounded utterly disgusted.

"I don't know which is worse: you letting those second-rate robbers get the jump on you, or them trying to rob you."

Keres grimaced at the reproach in her partner's voice. _I know. I know. I messed that up. _

"At least you're aware of it." Came the gruff response. "But I'll be tailing you until you get back to Carvahall."

Sensing that here would be no arguing with this declaration, Keres let the comment slide. _When I get back, I think I'll hit the local tavern. With luck like this, I might come out of this night a wealthy woman. _

Vikonyx snorted. "Unlikely. I daresay you've used up more than your share of luck for today."


	65. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

"So you see, the prospect of judging him places us in a very awkward situation indeed, and we would greatly appreciate it if you would handle this."

Thane crossed his arms across his chest, keeping his face carefully neutral as he struggled not to scream. Lord Formir Broquen of Feinster was a wide-faced, portly man who sweated profusely regardless of the weather. At present, his chubby cheeks were a deep shade of red and he was dabbing at his forehead with a silken handkerchief. Thane would have said it was nerves, but the man seemed to spend his life in a state of perpetual near panic.

There were several things he would have liked to tell the fat man. He would have liked to tell him that the cloying perfume the Lord tried to use to cover the stench of his sweat was somehow both overwhelming and ineffective. He would have liked to tell him that it was inconceivable how such a man had maintained rule of his territory for so long. He would have liked to tell him to stop cowering and be a man. Most of all, he would have liked to have told him that the Dragon Riders were not here to do his job or clean up his messes. But Thane said none of those things.

Instead, he spoke calmly. "My apologies, Lord Broquen, but I'm afraid that I cannot help you. I can appreciate the difficulty of your situation. To have to try such a well-respected member of your community on the grounds of cavorting with pirates is a grave task. However, Dragon Riders usually only involve themselves with crimes perpetuated on a much larger scale. Were he accused of piracy in other seaports, then I might be able to claim some jurisdiction, but, as of yet, there have been no such claims made and no proof presented. I'm afraid you will have to handle this unfortunate incident."

"Well spoken." Evaríncel murmured in his mind.

Thane acknowledged the compliment with a flicker of thought. What he had said was the truth. What he had not said was that this was clearly a case of railroading. Gregor Geldinson, a prominent and very wealthy merchant in these parts, was as unlikely to have anything to do with pirates as anyone Thane had ever seen. The fact was, the man was simply unpopular. Being the best in such a competitive market tended to have that effect. But it seemed quite clear that the evidence, what little there was, was circumstantial. But the accuser was a prominent citizen in her own right, which gave her declarations weight. When it came down to it, Thane had a more than sneaking suspicion that Lord Broquen simply didn't want to risk alienating either of the wealthiest merchants in his town. Thus, he was looking to pawn the responsibility off on someone else.

Of course, his statement only set the little man to sweating even more profusely. He dabbed at his face again and the handkerchief came away stained. "Now, Rider Thane, I'm sure there must be some way you could help us."

_You mean some way I can help you. _Thane thought, feeling the irritation bubbling in his chest. He had suspected that there might be some ulterior motive when the Lord had tracked him down near the docks. Thane, who had every intention of spending his day observing and exploring the city, had immediately been invited to a supposedly impromptu lunch with the Lord and several of his advisors. The fact that so many were present at the gathering had been enough to warn the young Rider that this was no "happy coincidence" as Lord Broquen had put it. Thane had found himself bustled down a long line of diplomats, each of whom expressed their delight at his ability to join their lunch and their gratitude for the work that he was doing. Even more telling was the fact that several of them inquired after the health of his parents and brother, perhaps expecting that he would have insight they did not. Thane had answered only politely, deciding that there was no point in revealing that he now had less contact with his family than he did with his station-mates.

Throughout the proceedings, Evaríncel had remained on constant contact, occasionally asking Thane a question or making a comment. The dragon was always fascinated by the convoluted nature of human politics. "It's just incredible that so much import can be put on the firmness of a handshake or the depth of a bow." He said thoughtfully. "It seems that you've only made it easier to insult everyone to varying degrees."

That thought had greatly amused Thane, who covered it by pretending to laugh at a joke the Lord had made. Now, however, he could feel nothing beyond a dull weariness with this situation and a growing sense of anger at this foppish man. He was only somewhat comforted by the fact that Tarehlak had reported a similar incident during his first couple months in the area. Of course, the Lord had apparently spoken only briefly with Nortavog or Keres when they had visited his city.

"Of course he wouldn't have spent much time with them. Can you imagine him trying to make this case to either of them?" Evaríncel asked, humming with amusement.

Thane had a brief image of the fat man cowering in his chair before Nortavog's large frame and grinned inwardly. The she-urgal might have been gentle enough to those who knew her, but she had little time for foolishness. _Given the difficulty he seems to be having keeping eye contact with me, he must have kept his eyes glued to his desk when Keres was here. _Familiar as he was with the white-haired girl, even Thane still found it mildly discomforting to lock gazes with her for too long. Those eyes were quite off-putting.

He became aware that it had been several seconds since he had spoken to the Lord of Feinster. The other man was looking hopefully at him, perhaps mistaking the silence for Thane's consideration of his request. Rising to his feet, Thane drew himself up. "Sir, what you ask is not within my power. If you wish to make this petition to Eragon, he might be able to come up with some way that we can assist you in this matter. However, without orders from him, I cannot help you."

Lord Broquen leaned forward in his chair, face reddening several shades. "But, you're the son of King Fiachre. Surely your word carries some weight!"

_And there it is. _Thane couldn't say he was surprised, but he was definitely disappointed. He had encountered this attitude a few times before. Even though people were well aware of the terms of his being a Dragon Rider, they still seemed to believe that he had some sort of inherent authority as the son of the ruling monarch. The sentiment was all the more galling because it had been years since Thane had thought of himself as a prince. That life had ended the moment the dragon circling high overhead had hatched for him. Curbing his anger, Thane forced his face to remain neutral.

"As you are well aware, sir, the moment any individual of noble birth is presented to the eggs, they and their parents must swear that, if a dragon chooses them, they will give up all claim to lands, titles, and authority derived from their station in life. The second that Evaríncel hatched for me, I forfeited my rights as a prince and any power that position might have given me. I am a Dragon Rider." He hadn't intended to put so much emphasis on those last few words, but they came out harder than he had expected. Normally, polite conversation demanded that he wait to be dismissed by the Lord of the keep, but Thane felt sure that if this situation went on much longer, his temper would get the better of him. Inclining his head, he turned and strode, stiff-backed, out of the chamber, leaving Lord Broquen staring after him. It took all of his willpower to keep his expression calm as he swiftly made his way out of the keep and back out into the city.

"Do you wish to talk?"

Thane glanced up and caught a glimpse of sparkling whistle amidst the grey clouds. "Not really. There's not too much to say is there?"

Evaríncel considered this for a moment. "No, I suppose there isn't. However, should you want company, all you need to do is ask."

Thane sighed, knowing that his partner could feel his gratitude through their link. They had discussed the issue of his parentage and how it affected his work many times before, almost as many times as the issue itself had arisen. Yet, try as they might, there was really no way either of them could see to completely fix the problem. It would just be something that he would have to deal with. Well, at least for the next hundred years or so. Evaríncel had pointed that out during one of their conversations. After a couple generations, there would be few left who would recognize him on sight as a prince. Thane wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. He supposed it was probably a bit of both.

Not wanting to risk another encounter with the Lord or any of his advisers, Thane made his way back toward the quarters he had been given within the city. All city leaders were required to set aside one room in their hold to be kept in the event of a visiting Rider. Of course, most of a Rider's time was spent out in the city, but it was always nice to have a warm, dry bed at the end of the day.

Much of his morning had been spent in the medical houses of the city. For the most part, Dragon Riders were encouraged to let nature take its course in matters of healing. There was no need to mend a broken arm that had already been set or a gash that was healing on its own. In many cases, the local Magician's Guild could be called upon to heal all but the most grievous or complex of injuries. Though most magicians could do little more than mend bruises, every individual tower was assigned at least two people who were skilled in the healing arts. However, Thane's schooling had been more extensive, and more detailed, than their own. The wounds left to the Riders were always the worst: a broken bone that had failed to heal properly, a patch of skin that had died or been injured beyond the normal range of repair, or a serious infection.

There had only been four people to see him this morning, but each of them had presented their own, unique challenge. One farmer had been caught up in his own plow, which had mangled his leg when the smell of blood spooked the horses. It had taken nearly an hour for Thane to carefully mend each muscle and tendon. A young girl had fallen from a second-story balcony and had shards of her arm bone protruding through her torn flesh. Thane had soothed her gently, and ultimately had to put her to sleep until he could maneuver the bone back into place and get it on its way toward healing.

These procedures were always complicated by the fact that spells either had to be cast silently or else whispered so softly they couldn't be overheard. Several of the words necessary to heal the worst injuries were archaic or otherwise simply not very well known. Both the Dragon Riders and the elves guarded such words fiercely. There was power in them, and using words without the full knowledge of their definition and scope was an easy way to get people hurt. Initially, Thane had thought that the need to whisper a spell or cast it nonverbally was just a case of paranoia. Only after he had observed the magicians of the Guild watching his lips closely had he realized that they really were trying to learn new words by watching him work. It was a sore point between the elves, Riders, and Magician's Guild that the former two refused to share parts of their knowledge with the latter. However, Eragon and Arya were able to cite several historical instances in which the Guild had either mishandled or poorly applied such knowledge with disastrous consequences.

When Thane finally snapped out of his temper, he was climbing the stairs to his appointed room. He had no real idea of what exactly he intended to do. It would be necessary to go out and observe some more before the day ended. However, he didn't know if he was quite ready to do that just yet. Deciding that a few hours of leisure couldn't hurt, he quickly found his pack and rummaged through it until he found the book he was looking for. Thane wasn't a huge reader of books, but the library at Sunvarda had boasted several interesting publications about the surrounding cities. Most notable among these was Dras Leona, which had a rich and convoluted history, particularly as it related to Helgrind.

The book he was reading now, titled "An Annotated History of Helgrind and the Priests of Tosk", He initially looked to be quite dull. However, he had discovered that it contained one of the most complete studies and analysis of the religious cult that could be found anywhere. The authors had apparently taken the time to study interviews by some of the only surviving members of the cut. The more Thane had ready about the rituals undertaken by the priests, the more sickened he had felt. In retrospect, it seemed incredible that no one had considered that the priests might have been worshipping the Ra'zac, rather than Helgrind itself. Still, very few had known that the Ra'zac lived in the massive tower of rock until Eragon, Saphira, and Brom had puzzled it out near the beginning of the Rider War.

Cracking open the book, Thane quickly found the page he had left off on and settled down to read. The first few pages were straightforward enough. They were an account of the rituals that had taken place at the base of Helgrind, which varied slightly from the rituals which had been performed in the massive cathedral. It also detailed how the High Priest was made aware of the Ra'zac's return to their lair after they were sent out on missions by the tyrant King. He had been reading for nearly half an hour before he struck upon a new paragraph that caught his attention.

"In the wake of the Ra'zac's defeat at the hands of Eragon Shadeslayer and the dragon Saphira, Helgrind remained relatively untouched for some years. The difficulty in getting to the caves formerly inhabited by the monsters ensured that few would disturb the dark memories buried there. It wasn't until much later, that a use was finally found for the imposing structure. After the capture of the famous bandit Nor Weldson, plans were created to turn the former lair of the Ra'zac into a high security prison for enemies of the Empire. Several magicians were hand-selected and trained to guard the facility. Combined with the height of Helgrind and the sheer rock faces, the sight has come to be regarded as the most secure prison in the kingdom, holding some of the most notorious criminals of the modern age such as infamous slaver Aldi Ba-Faren, the Pirate King Jace Ranier, and notable assassin Missan Veni."

Thane blinked. That couldn't be right. He read the paragraph again. He had flown by the towering mass of rock several times in his travels and had never noticed anything out of the ordinary. _But that's the point, isn't it? _Whispered a small voice in his mind. _What better place to hide a prison? Hidden in plain sight, where everyone can see, but no one will suspect. _It made sense on several levels. Helgrind was nearly impassable and practically unassailable. And it was proven that there were miles of tunnels inside the rocks, specifically prison cells that the Ra'zac had used.

_Did you know there are people in Hellgrind?_ He directed the question at his partner.

Evaríncel's answer was somewhat delayed by the distance between them. "People? Where?"

_In a prison. They built a high-security prison in the tunnels the Ra'zac used to use. _

The white dragon's thoughts must have run along much the same track as his rider's, for he answered, "Well, that would make sense. You'd have to fly to get up there, or else levitate with magic. And we know that there are spells of concealment around the place already. A hidden prison that's virtually inescapable unless you can use magic or have a dragon seems like the ideal place to keep miscreants."

_Yes, I know, but using those cells, especially knowing what they were made for seems barbaric. _

Evaríncel shrugged. "I'm not certain how one prison could be worse than another. Either way, you're stripped of your freedom and confined. I don't think the location could make that better or worse, barring if it was exceptionally cold or hot, which I suspect Helgrind is neither."

_No, just dark._

"All prisons are dark. The amount of light has little to do with it."

Thane had already opened his mouth to respond when a sudden, piercing cold touched his right thigh. He yelped, batting at his leg, before realizing that it was coming from inside his pocket. A few seconds later, understanding hit him. Dragging the enchanted mirror out of his pocket, he was startled to find a pair of brilliant, white eyes staring back at him. "Keres!" Dragon Riders usually didn't contact each other on the mirrors. Normally, they were used as communication if something had happened or news needed to be disseminated quickly. However, Keres was smiling easily at him, as if all were well.

"Thane, it's good to see you."

"And you as well. How goes the bandit hunting?"

She snorted. "Over. Stumbled across them on the first day. Or rather they stumbled across me. It's quite an amusing story, if you're interested to hear it when I return." She shifted, glancing back over her shoulder as if to check the room behind her before lowering her voice slightly. "Tarehlak told me that you were getting ready to go scouting in Section 2, is that correct?"

Thane raised an eyebrow. Technically, the land that the Sunvarda Riders patrolled was broken up into four sections. It was an easy way to communicate back to Vrenbana which cities had recently been visited and which territories had been observed. However, amongst themselves, the Riders almost never referred to the sections in such a way. It was common practice to openly discuss the cities they would be going to. Moreover, every Rider knew the exact schedule of all the others stationed with them. It was the best way to ensure that backup was available if necessary. Keres should know that he was already on his patrol. _Is she worried that someone will overhear her? _

He nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"Uck, that's so far away." She growled plaintively, "I feel like I never get to see you anymore."

For a few heartbeats, Thane was dumbfounded. _What the hell? _Then, as he watched, she lifted a small sheet of paper into his field of vision. A single line of runes was sketched onto it and, as he read, Thane couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. **Continue to speak normally. I have secured the room as best I can, but I don't know who might be watching. **

"Well that's definitely not good." Evaríncel, who had been watching the exchange through his rider's eyes, wheeled and headed immediately back toward the city.

Adopting a wistful tone, Thane responded. "I know. Feels like forever, doesn't it?"

He saw a brief flash of relief cross her face at his words, but it wasn't mirrored in her tone as she sighed. "Tell me about it. So, how have you been?" At the same moment, her hands moved, quickly turning the paper over so that a new set of runes was visible. **Something is amiss here. The bandit task was too simple. The Earl asked me to investigate strange occurrences around the waterfall. He was very on edge. I suspect that was his real problem all along. I may require backup. **

Above all else, it was the final line of text that sent a chill down his spine. Keres was, both magically and martially, one of the most capable young Dragon Riders in the corps. _If she's concerned that she might need help . . . what the hell is she facing? _

"Oh, I've been alright." He said airily. "Just training and getting some carving in." Even as he spoke, his hand was frantically carving runes into the earth beside him. "I made a new piece for you when you get back."

She gave him a quizzical look, even as she said, delightedly, "Oh yay. Now I'm really excited to get back!"

Angling the mirror toward the ground, Thane showed her the runes he had written there for a split second. **Are you alright?**

Though she continued speaking normally, asking questions about the sculpture, which he playfully refused to answer, he saw her arms working as she crafted an answer to his question. Finally, sounding for all the world like a pouting teenager, she flashed him her response. **Yes. Just worried. **A moment later, another piece of paper came into view. **Tarehlak has been informed. He told me that you were closest. Please patrol the northern part of section 2 first. I begin my investigation tomorrow morning. The Guild has investigated before, but found nothing. Even so, rumors about the Igualda Falls persist. If something goes wrong, I will contact you. **

Finally, Keres leaned back in her chair. "Well, I will let you go. I know you're very busy and I don't want to keep you."

Thane nodded, indicating that he had received her message. "Alright. I will talk to you again soon." He hesitated, then added, "And Keres?" When she cocked her head in response, his expression grew serious. "If you ever need me, don't hesitate to call."

A look of gratefulness flashed across her face and she nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I will remember that. Fair winds Thane, Evaríncel."


	66. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

The tavern had been buzzing with activity all evening. A traveling minstrel had arrived the previous night, ensuring that all patrons knew that there was music to be had. Moreover, a caravan carrying a large quantity of dwarf-made drink had come through earlier in the week and the bar was well stocked. Thus, the building was very nearly packed to the brim when Keres arrived.

She pushed the door open, stepping quickly inside and closed it behind her. She had decided against going incognito again. Vikonyx's presence was impossible to hide anyway, so word had already spread that a Dragon Rider was in the city since they had arrived four days earlier. She had spent the last few days in near-seclusion, trying to ensure that her investigation into the Igualda Falls went unnoticed. Thus far, she had spent several, fruitless nights camped on the banks of the river and several, long days scouting the surrounding area. She had tried every spell of finding and uncovering that she knew and gone over the terrain as carefully as she could, and come up empty. Finally frustrated with her lack of success, she had caved and decided to allow herself a small respite before resuming the investigation for one final night.

Of course, there was only one restaurant she was interested in trying. She had opted for a plain, but well-made pair of trousers and black shirt. Her necklace, which was studded with a black diamond the size of her fingernail, was carefully tucked beneath her shirt. The opal studs in her ears were obscured by her hair, but nothing could completely hide the graven sheath that hung at her side. At first, very few people took any notice of her. Then those who had turned immediately to look began to nudge their neighbors and whisper. A circle of silence began to spread outward until every eye in the room was upon her.

She scanned the crowd, forcing herself to meet the gazes of several of the patrons. No matter how often this spectacle was repeated, it never got any less awkward. Drawing herself up with as much dignity as she could muster, she inclined her head to the room before beginning to make her way through the maze of tables and toward the bar. Slowly, but surely, the buzz of conversation started back up. Keres couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they knew that she could hear everything they were saying. As usual, the vast majority of comments were focused around her hair and eye color. However, it seemed that the people of Carvahall were either more polite or less interested than she was used to, for those whispers were quickly silenced. Within a few minutes, she heard the first strains of a popular mountain folk tune from the corner where the minstrel had taken up residence.

She reached the bar and located an empty stool between two groups of men. As she slid into the seat, several of them glanced over at her and raised their tankards fractionally. She nodded to them before turning her attention to the bartender, who had hurried toward her.

He plunked a full tankard down in front of her. "It's an honor to have you in our establishment, Rider."

She accepted it gratefully, smiling up at him. "Thank you sir. I've wanted to come to Morn's tavern since I was a little girl." She glanced around, "Are you related to him?"

A broad smile broke over the man's face and his chest swelled proudly. "Aye miss. I'm Drek, his many times great grandson on my mother's side. My brother and I have been running the tavern for nearly 15 years now, and I dare say our sons will take up the mantle after us. So long as there is a bloodline, this tavern will be run by a descendant of Morn, you can count on that." He punctuated the statement with a sharp bob of his head.

She lifted the tankard in the smallest of salutes, "I'm glad to hear it. Say, what do you have in the way of food?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Well, we've got some roast pork turning on the spits, but it'll be a while yet before it's done. For now, we've got a nice, braised beef stew, or lamb on a bed of fresh vegetables."

Keres considered for a moment before replying. "The lamb and vegies please. And some bread would be much appreciated in the meantime." As he nodded and moved away, she took a draft from the tankard. The mead was excellent. She knew that, in Eragon's time, the tavern had brewed much of its own beer. Though they had retained the tradition, Morn's was now known throughout the country for it's the quality of its mead and wine. She wasn't much for wine, but mead she had learned to love. As she took another long draught, she reflected that she would have to take care not to drink too much. In spite of her prodigious strength and speed, her tolerance for alcohol wasn't any better than that of most people, and Eragon might actually fly out and murder her if she ended up drunk while out on a mission.

Within five minutes, Drek was back and depositing half a loaf of fresh bread and a pat of honeyed butter in front of her. She tore into it with relish. The cooks in the castle were fantastic. That was only to be expected of one who was employed by the local noble. However, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing that beat these local places. Somehow they always had the best fare. She had only just finished polishing off the bread when her food arrived. The lamb was still steaming and the vegetables were crisp. Keres finished her tankard and ordered another one as she wolfed down her food.

As she looked around the room, she reflected that taverns were generally the same, regardless of race of species. Except the elves of course. She frowned as the thought struck her. She had never heard of the elves having anything that even remotely resembled a tavern. Their culture was too guarded and political for such things. Keres shrugged. She couldn't really imagine any of the elves she knew going into a tavern anyways. _Note to self: try to get an elf into a tavern. _

Nearly a half-hour later, she was picking the last few crumbs of food from her plate. The meal had been excellent. The minstrel was passably good, and Keres was humming contentedly with the tunes that emanated from his little corner. As she surveyed the room, she could see, in her mind's eye the tavern as Eragon had shown it to her. It was larger now, and some of the details of the old tavern had been replaced by newer innovations, but it was not too hard to imagine the two together. The thought that a younger Eragon might have sat where she was currently sitting was pleasing. But he would have been different then. That Eragon knew so little of dragons and riders and the world outside his little town. Would she even had recognized him?

"If you're not too busy, we do have some reconnaissance to do tonight." Vikonyx's tone was somewhere between amusement and vague annoyance.

Keres snorted, immediately regretting it as she nearly choked on the piece of meat she had been in the process of swallowing. _Can it still be called reconnaissance if nothing ever happens?_

"Yes. Yes it can."

_You're a dragon. Do not argue semantics with me. _

"I'm a dragon. I don't argue. I win."

Keres paused midway through the gulp of mead she was taking. _Ah. Touché. _She tilted her head back, draining the tankard. _Still, I'm not holding out too much hope for tonight. _Something in the way Earl David had casually tossed out this secondary mission had raised several red flags in her mind. The Magician's Guild in Carvahall was considered to be one of the best in the country. Their members were typically better trained and much more capable than the average magic-user. If they had surveyed this place and found nothing, what was there to make the Earl think that there might me something amiss?

Folk tales weren't uncommon, particularly around the Spine. Even Eragon knew of legends associated with the mountain range that he thought were ridiculous. And Earl David didn't seem like the type of man to succumb to hearsay and superstition. The longer she had canvased the area, the more she had wondered if he hadn't sent her out as a last resort; a way to reassure the people that there was nothing strange whatsoever in the area. After all, if both the Magician's Guild and a Dragon Rider could find no trace of anything strange, there probably wasn't anything going on.

Gesturing to get Drek's attention, she plunked her tankard back onto the wooden bar. "That was excellent, Master Drek. My compliments to the cook."

The thinly built man smiled. "That'd be my wife, Villa. She'll be pleased to hear that you liked the meal." The smile faded somewhat as she reached toward her waist, producing a small coin purse. Lifting his hands, Drek shook his head. "There's no charge for you, Dragon Rider. We were pleased to serve you."

"I'm afraid I must insist. I pay my dues, Master Drek."

Again, the older man shook his head. "I can't let you do that. Carvahall was the original home of the Dragon Rider. They'll be no charge for any of you in my tavern."

"You might regret that, if you knew how much some of our members could eat, let alone drink." She told him, a smile creasing the corners of her mouth. "If you won't let me pay for my food, at least let me make a contribution to the tavern. You've done an excellent job up-keeping it. I know Eragon would be pleased." When he continued to look doubtful, she pressed her advantage. "Tell you what, you let me pay you something, and I'll sign your wall, right underneath the plank Eragon sent. You'll be the only innkeeper in the world to have both Eragon's signature, and that of his first, and so far, only, apprentice."

For a few seconds, Drek didn't quite comprehend her words. Then his eyes widened. Out the corner of her own eyes, Keres saw several of the nearby patrons turn to look at her with interest. Very few people outside of Vrenbana knew that Eragon had even taken an apprentice. That would be big news anywhere, especially here in Carvahall. Still, she reflected, it made sense that the knowledge should start here. It was somehow, more poetic to have the next stage of Eragon's legacy be revealed in his hometown.

"You're . . . I mean, you were . . . Eragon's apprentice?" Drek sounded awed.

She nodded, "I most certainly was. Keres White-Eye, at your service." She added the last part with a small half-bow.

She could see the excitement growing on his face. An attraction like what she was proposing was unprecedented. When the new tavern had been built, Morn had written to Eragon and received, in return, a plank inscribed with both dragon and riders' names and with both ends scorched by Saphira's fire. It had been one of the centerpieces of his establishment and was always a talking point he could use to draw in customers. This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

Rubbing his hands together excitedly, he licked his lips. "Could your dragon also sign? Like Saphira did?"

Keres shrugged. "I don't think Vikonyx would have a problem with that. Now, do we have a deal?" When Drek nodded eagerly, Keres quickly pulled out a few coins and set them on the table. He scooped them up hurriedly.

"I'll just go and get you one of your extra planks. We keep them around, just in case we need to make repairs."

He had turned to leave before she held up a hand to stop him. "Please, just have it sent up to the castle. Tell them to put it in my quarters. But do it later. Right now, you've got a full tavern to attend to." She added the last part with a meaningful glance around them.

Drek seemed to come to his sense and he followed her gaze. "Yes. You're right of course. Yes. I'll have it sent immediately. Thank you, thank you Dragon Rider."

Keres smiled at him, making a dismissive gesture with her hand as she rose to her feet. She turned abruptly to leave, but she could feel his eyes, and those of many of the other tavern goers, on her back as she made her way to the door. As she opened it, she had the supreme satisfaction of seeing several young children leaping off barrels and boxes as they scrambled away from the windows. She favored them with quick smiles, noting the look of wonder and awe on their young faces as they studied her. For most of them, Dragon Riders were stories of legend. They had been raised on tales of Eragon Bromson, the hometown hero, and of Arya Shadeslayer, Queen of the Elves. Now, here was a figure straight out of those legends.

A vision from Vikonyx told Keres that the dragon was now circling directly overhead. _Okay, so everyone is watching me. Can we do the thing?_

Vikonyx sighed. "Must you always show off in front of crowds of people?"

_Oh come on!_ Keres pleaded. _Think how cool we'll look. _

"Fine. Hold on, I'm coming in."

Keres had to fight to keep the grin from breaking across her face. From overhead, she heard the thunderous clap of Vikonyx's wings. She turned slightly, spotting the dragon soaring toward her in the darkening sky. Conscious of the eyes watching her, Keres bent her knees slightly, mentally measuring the distance between herself and her partner. Then, she leapt, exerting the full strength of her legs against the ground. The street fell away beneath her as the force of the jump took her nearly ten feet straight up into the air. She extended a hand as Vikonyx flashed by above her. Her fingers closed on the pommel of her saddle and she felt the strain in her shoulder as the dragon pulled her sharply forward. Twisting her body, she maneuvered herself into the saddle just in time for her partner to right herself.

A glance over her shoulder told Keres that several of the tavern patrons had spilled out into the street to watch them go. Turning back around, she finally let the smile break over her face.

_Pretty sure we just nailed that exit. _

Vikonyx shook her head, releasing a puff of smoke that gushed back over her rider. "Somehow, I can't help but feel that the Dragon Riders of old would be mildly disappointed with your behavior."

Keres rolled her eyes. _Really? They built a city so big it could actually accommodate dragons. I could try my whole life and never showboat that much. _

"But they needed that city."

_No they didn't! Dragons don't even have cities. Why would a dragon have ever needed to be inside a city? Almost everyone would have been either a Rider or an elf, and therefore able to communicate with their mind. You don't need to come into cities with me. We just talk through our mental link. Building that city was nothing short of hubris. _

Vikonyx rolled a massive eye back in her direction. "That was . . . actually a fairly good point. How is it the moment you start drinking, you sound exponentially more logical? Isn't that a bit backward?"

Keres shrugged. _Maybe. More likely, it's because I'm saying things that I was already thinking, but just never had the guts to say otherwise. The old Dragon Riders were wonderful. They did wonderful things and they made wonderful discoveries. But they weren't so different from us. They were human, and elf, I suppose. But the point is that they were subject to the same shortcomings and pitfalls that we are._

"Just stop. You're really starting to worry me."

Keres chuckled. _Alright. Apologies. I'll stop making sense._

The flight was fairly short. The distance between the town and the Igualda Falls might have been substantial on the ground, but on the back of a dragon, it took only a matter of minutes. They had already decided that there was no harm in making their objective clear tonight. Keres had disseminated the rumor that she wanted to spend a night camping by the falls since it played such a role in the lore of Eragon's past. The excuse had seemed to satisfy everyone who had questioned her. However, just to be safe, Vikonyx would remain with her rider tonight. Of course, the secrecy of her earlier excursions meant that Keres could leave no trace of her presence behind, so she would have to set up camp yet again, but that would be little trouble. It wasn't even cold enough to warrant a tent. All she would really need was a fire.

Vikonyx pulled up sharply as the falls came into view. The lush trees bent and swayed beneath the tumult created by her wings. As the branches stretched so close to the water, she actually had to fold her wings when she was still above the canopy and drop the last few meters to the ground. The impact jarred Keres in the saddle and she groaned, taking a moment to gather her bearings before she slid down to the ground. Within a few minutes, she had removed the saddle from Vikonyx's back and started a cracking fire that threw light around the clearing. But something was off. Something felt different tonight. It was like . . . what was the sensation? Her brow furrowed as she scowled at the ground. She couldn't quite place it. Then she shook her head. It was all too likely she was imagining something just so she didn't feel that this extra effort was being wasted. Vikonyx was looking around with interest.

"It's a pretty enough spot."

Keres nodded. The Igualda Falls were quite beautiful. The line of thick trees stopped some seven or eight yards from the bank on either side. The shrubbery continued for another yard or so, but even it petered out into a lush carpet of emerald grass that stretched almost to the waterline. A stripe of sparse growth about two feet wide flanked both sides of the river that flowed away from the falls, indicating where the water level would be after the spring thaw brought extra water down from the Spine. The Falls themselves towered into the air. They were small by the standards of Vrenbana, but large enough that Keres could appreciate their size. Here, by the falls, they were nearly sheer, but Keres had already discovered the faint path that lead from the foot of the falls and wound up through the rocky terrain off to one side.

Though she was loath to do so, Keres quickly lit a small lantern from her bags and began to canvas the area yet again. The sun had already set. She had spent more time than she had meant to in the tavern, so her scan of the area would have to be done by lantern-light. She had done this every time she came up here, searching each time for anything that might have been different from the time before. She had considered the possibility that the lights were a prank or hoax pulled by someone who just wanted to get a rise out of people, or worse, by someone with something to hide. However, her searches of the immediate area had concluded what Earl David had told her: that in recent years, people had begun to avoid the area. She had also searched the area with magic, wondering if, perhaps, the Magician's Guild might have been hiding something up here. That could certainly have been a reason for their assertions that there was nothing strange about the sight. But she could find no spells anywhere in the vicinity.

Somewhat irritated, but not surprised, at the conclusion of another fruitless search, Keres threw herself onto the ground by the fire. Vikonyx didn't even have to ask for the results. The dragon had sympathetically listened to Keres lament her lack of success for the last few days. She had even gone over the memories that Keres had shared with her, but could find nothing out of the ordinary in any of them. They sat in silence for a few minutes while the young woman nursed her irritation.

Finally, the dragon sighed, shifting her position on the grass. "Go ahead and get some sleep. If anything happens, I'll be sure to wake you. Otherwise, I'll get you up just after moon-high. After all, most of these alleged sightings have happened in the early morning, right?"

Keres looked gratefully over at her partner. With her stomach full, she could already feel sleep tugging at her limbs and had been wondering exactly how she was going to make it through the night. "That sounds like a plan. Then you can sleep the rest of the morning and get ready for our trip home."

The dragon reached across the camp, stretching her long neck out to nudge her partner on the shoulder. Keres reached up and hugged the armored nose, pressing her forehead against the bony brow. They had spent so little time together since arriving here in Carvahall. The need for secrecy had demanded that Vikonyx, who was much more visible, stay well away from where Keres was operating. The mind-touch had kept them in communication, but there was no substitute for physical contact. In spite of how eager Keres had been to visit Eragon's home, she was ready to return to Sunvarda. She missed Tarehlak and his acerbic remarks. She missed Nortavog and her calm, steadfast presence. And she missed Thane, with his boundless good-nature and quiet humor. To her surprise, she realized that this last emotion was, perhaps, slightly stronger than the previous ones. The thought brought a faint tingle to her cheeks and she shook it away, pushing it to the back of her mind as she pulled a pack of clothes under her head. For a few minutes, she stared up at the endless, starry sky above her. Then she closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of the fire and the comfort of a full stomach, and fell fast asleep.

The dreams that found her were bizarre. Familiar people and faces wove in and out of them, but never in ways that made sense. Arya, Narilaer, and Ralihirn sat in the corner of a tavern, arguing over the merits of each species of tree. Nortavog and Tarehlak danced to folk tuned in the center of the room, the massive urgal towering over the dwarf, who appeared diminutive in her shadow. Then Eragon entered wearing floor-length robes of deep purple and gold bangles around his arms. The sight was so absurd that Keres couldn't help but laugh. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned to see Thane standing beside her, smiling down her at her. He extended a hand toward the dance floor in a questioning gesture.

She opened her mouth to respond, and then faltered. Light was blazing through his fingers, up from the floor. It was so intense that she could see the shadows cast by each of his fingers clearly, though they were displayed only in the air and not on any surface. Her head tilted quizzically. The tavern vanished. She was suspended in mid-air above light. At first, it dazzled her eyes with its brightness and she actually raised a hand to shield her face. Then, as her vision adjusted, she was able to make out a pool. Her breath hitched slightly. It was massive. She gazed down into fathomless depths, transfixed by the sheer power of the glow beneath her. And it was growing brighter by the second. Though there was no heat, she could feel the first, small stings against her skin, as if she were standing too close to a flame.

"Keres!"

She bolted upright, her eyes snapping open. The air was fairly crackling with tension and every hair on her body was standing on end. Beside her, Vikonyx was in a half-crouch, her head twisting from side to side. Blinking, Keres glanced around the clearing, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. The water still gushed over the rocks high above and tumbled down into the riverbed below.

"So how long has this been happening?" She spoke aloud, and her voice echoed in the silence around them. That was the first time she noticed the lack of sound. When she had searched the area earlier, even with Vikonyx's presence, she could make out the small scuffling and scurrying of the forest creatures. It was the sort of ambient noise that was so common and expected, she rarely noted it anymore. Now, it was apparent in its absence. Even the rush of water cascading down into the pool seemed muted.

"I'm not sure. I noticed it about 20 minutes ago, but it's gradually been getting stronger, so I assume it started much earlier." Even the dragon spoke softly, her wings half-flared, as if she were preparing to pounce.

Pushing herself to her feet, Keres dropped her hand to where Skraván lay and drew the sword. She had the horrible, creeping feeling that something was imminent. Whether it was dangerous or not, she couldn't be sure, but she knew she wanted to be armed when it happened.

It was then that she heard the sound. At first, she assumed that it was wind, rushing through the trees around them. Then, as it continued to grow in volume, she realized that it wasn't emanating from the forest. It was coming from . . . "The water!" Sable whirled, staring at the waterfall that cascaded over the cliff high above. Its appearance hadn't changed. But the feeling had. She felt as though she were standing beneath a storm, waiting for lightning to crash down on her. Tentatively, she reached out with her mind, probing toward the frothing river. And there was nothing. No fish, not even the smallest of bacteria. _How is that possible? _She searched deeper, groping into the infinite darkness that was the stretch of water. And then she saw. The light.

It blazed from beneath the river, from beneath even the earth. But now, a single column of light was rising from the depths of the glowing pool. It moved slowly at first, like a volcano waiting to erupt. Then it blasted up, passing her and stretching into the sky like a giant, luminous column.

"Keres" Vikonyx's voice was hushed with awe. Opening her eyes, Keres felt her mouth fall open as she stared at the foaming water. Dancing, multicolored lights were springing up from the depths of the pool. Nearly the size of her closed fist, each flashed a different color: red, blue, green, white, yellow, and many, many other hues. They flitted up the length of the waterfall before vanishing into the night. The dragon took a half-step forward. "What is it?"

Keres thought she already knew, but still she moved forward, Skraván held at the ready. With every step toward the lights, she felt the tingling sensation on her skin increase. It burned, but the sensation was unlike any fire or ice. It was like . . . electricity. The ache went deeper than the skin. It reached to her bones, and groaned aloud as she continued, gritting her teeth as every step took her closer to the bank. Reaching it, she stretched out a hand, tentatively pushing her fingers toward the surface of the water. The pain was so intense that her eyes were watering and she had to fight to clear them.

The pad of her index finger brushed the liquid. Then there was pain. It seared through every fiber of her body with the intensity of a storm. She tried to pull back, but the sensation had tensed the muscles along her frame. They seized violently, cramping and holding her fixed in place. She tried to scream, but not even her jaw muscles would obey her and the sound came out muffled and strangled. But worse still were the voices. And they were voices. She realized now that what she had mistaken for wind was actually thousands and thousands and thousands of voices layered atop each other. Men and women and children and elders all melded their tones into a cacophony of sound. Some whispered, some screamed, some laughed, some cried, but all lent their tongues to the barrage of noise that now filled her mind as completely as a water vessel being dipped in a stream. It was agony beyond anything she had ever felt before.

Then something yanked her backward. Her finger left the water and, instantly, the voices fell silent. Skraván went spinning out of her hand. She heard a yowl of pain from Vikonyx and Keres realized she was flying through the air. The ground rushed up to meet her and, unable to move to shield herself, she crashed into it, rolling several times until she finally lost momentum. For a few more heartbeats, her muscles remained tensed, then they slowly began to relax. The pain, though it now began to recede, was still quite overwhelming, and she lay on the ground, shuddering as individual muscles seized and jumped.

"Keres! Keres are you alright?"

Only the sheer terror in Vikonyx's voice could have prompted her to move. She slowly maneuvered her arms into position and lifted herself onto her hands and knees. Her muscles screamed at the effort, but she persisted, finally managing to lift her head and look at her partner through streaming eyes. The dragon's mouth was working furiously, in much the same way that Keres had seen dogs react when they had eaten something hot. It was another few moments before Keres found her voice. When she spoke, the words were shaky and cracked.

"We have to contact Eragon and Arya . . . immediately."


	67. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Daybreak found a white dragon winging his way north through the low-hanging clouds. Thane was drowsing in the saddle, a mask pulled over his face to keep the small droplets of water from tickling his nose and throat as he breathed. The wild rush of adrenaline that had surged through him at receiving Eragon's midnight message had worn off now and the tedious passing of the miles had lulled him back to sleep. Now Evaríncel rushed toward Palancar Valley with all the speed he could muster, occasionally dipping below the clouds to ensure that his bearings were correct.

They had both assumed that Keres' investigation turned up not information. She hadn't contacted them since her previous, cryptic message had come in days ago. So, when Eragon had contacted them in the dead of night, his orders had come as a shock. The conversation had been brief and direct. Some misfortune had befallen Keres. She had contacted Arya to relay that something had indeed happened at the Igualda Falls. However, the young woman had seemed shaken and out-of-sorts, and, halfway through the conversation, contact had been lost. Unable to re-establish communication, Arya had contacted Eragon and they had quickly formed a plan. Eragon would send Thane to rendezvous with Keres and find out what had happened to her. As he was the closest, Thane could reach her more quickly than any other Rider. Meanwhile, Arya would depart from Du Weldenvarden and hurry toward the valley as well.

Thane had feverishly packed his things and departed immediately. Evaríncel had flown through the night at top speed, even as the pregnant clouds gathered around them. Though they had struggled to reassure each other that everything was probably fine, both of them had been on edge during those first few hours. There had been more than enough in Eragon's message to disconcert even the logic-minded Evaríncel. Firstly, the fact that anything had happened at all during Keres' investigation of the Falls was deeply concerning. Palancar Valley had never been notable for anything of that nature in the past. So whatever she had discovered was either a new development, or something that they had, somehow, overlooked for the last few hundred years. Secondly, that Keres had seemed "out-of-sorts", as Arya put it, was not a good sign. If her first message had unsettled him, this was downright terrifying. Most importantly, the fact that they had lost contact with her part-way through the message meant that something had gone very wrong. For the magic to fail, she had to have been incapacitated in some way. The fact that connection hadn't been re-established meant that whatever had occurred hadn't been momentary. Keres could still be in danger.

The only bright side was that Eragon had assured him that Vikonyx had been with her at the time. It seemed unlikely that anyone would have managed to sneak up on and overpower both of them. Still, even if Keres had simply lost consciousness, he needed to get to her as soon as possible. Vikonyx wouldn't be able to perform the sort of magic that could aid her rider if Keres was in need of medical attention. Worse, there was also a chance that the Magician's Guild could discover her. Though Eragon had told Thane very little of what had transpired by the Igualda Falls, he had stressed that keeping this situation secret was of the utmost importance.

Thane jerked awake as Evaríncel wobbled slightly, dropping several meters as a downdraft struck him. The white dragon rolled an eye back toward his rider. "Sorry"

_It's alright. _Stretching, Thane narrowed his eyes as he struggled to see through the clinging vapor. _Where are we? _

"Still over the Spine." Came the rumbled answer. "I spotted Flam off to the east a little while ago, but I had to veer off course. These clouds are the tip of a large group of storms lining the west side of the mountains. I lost time there, but I think we'll make up for it by not having to fight the weather so much."

In spite of his even tone, Thane could hear a faint note of strain in his partner's voice. Evaríncel was not the fastest flyer, but he was giving his all to get to Palancar Valley as swiftly as possible. Thane reached forward to pat the scaled neck. _If you need any extra energy, we have enough stored up to help you. _

The chest swelled beneath the saddle and a gush of smoke washed over him. "I have strength enough for this, Thane." There was a faint pause before he added. "Your time would be better spent reviewing whatever spells you think you might need. We don't know what's wrong with Keres, but it would behoove us to be prepared when we arrive."

Thane nodded. He hadn't considered that. Twisting in his seat, he dug into one of his bags and fished out the notebook he had been keeping. The entire book had been written in code on the off chance that it became lost or was stolen. He had created a cipher based on the runes used by both the dwarves and the elves. In it, categorized into various sections, the journal contained records of several spells that he thought might come in handy during his travels. Flipping through to the section that contained his spells of healing, he began to quickly read over them. He wasn't a particularly skilled healer, but his training had been thorough, and he was proficient enough to deal with most situations. Still, some of these spells were quite complex and carried serious risk if they were cast incorrectly, so he took special care to revisit each of those.

Hours passed as Evaríncel continued his prolonged, northward sprint. Thane had eventually put away his notebook and huddled back down in the saddle to nap. The white dragon woke him as they crested a rise and passed into the valley. To the west, the sun was already partway below the horizon. Ducking slightly westward, they hugged the mountains, staying well within the concealing grip of the clouds as they began to make their way toward the falls. Some ways to their right, they saw the lights of Therinsford beginning to blink into existence as darkness fell over valley. Then, up ahead, was the brighter glow of Carvahall with its watchtowers and fires.

Dropping below the cloud-line, Evaríncel veered above the trees, so low that his wings brushed the tops of the trees with each flap. The canopy beneath them was an unbroken carpet of green. Though the dragon was doing his best to glide silently, wingbeat created a thunderous concussion that shook the trees. Birds went screaming up from the forest to adorn the sky. For the first time ever, Thane wished that his partner weren't so obvious. A white dragon was difficult to miss in a darkening sky, especially one with scales such as Evaríncel's. He practically glowed in the dying light of the sun.

Suddenly the trees parted and, on the ground, Thane saw the massive bulk of a black dragon against the emerald grass. The triangular head rose and, for a split second, the wings flared in a challenge. Then Vikonyx seemed to figure out who they were and the she-dragon quickly backed away, giving the newcomers time to land. Evaríncel hovered for two wingbeats before folding his own wings against his sides and dropping like a boulder to the ground. Their surroundings shook as his claws touched down and he bent at the joints, absorbing the impact of the landing.

Thane was off his back so swiftly that the young rider stumbled a few paces. Reaching out to the black dragon with his mind, he spoke quickly. _Vikonyx, are you alright?_

The armored head bobbed. "I am fine. But Keres lies silent and my words do not reach her." The anxiety in the dragon's voice was startling. Her tail twitched in agitation and her claws kneaded the ground in front of her. Between them, the white-haired girl lay on her back, her arms and legs sprawled at various angles. As if she had read his mind, Vikonyx quickly explained. "I moved her. She fell face-down and I feared the grass might smother her. I rolled her over as best I could, but she doesn't answer when I call. Her mind is dark."

As the black dragon stepped back, Thane rushed toward the prone figure and threw himself down beside her. Her chest was rising and falling slowly, the even breathing of someone in the deepest stages of sleep. Yet, as he pulled back one eyelid, he found the pupils fixed and dilated. There was none of the wild movements of someone who was dreaming. No, the iris filled up nearly her entire eye, staring blankly at the sky above until he lowered the lid once more. Every inch of exposed skin glistened with sweat despite the coolness of the evening. As he laid the back of his palm against her forehead, he recoiled.

"She's freezing!"

"I know." Vikonyx pushed her head forward to nudge her partner's shoulder. "I tried to warm her up, but she would only sweat. She never got any warmer."

Thane quickly scanned her entire frame, searching for any clue as to her condition. He could see no evidence of any injury. There were no bumps, bruises, lacerations, or puncture wounds that he could find. Tentatively, he began to push back her clothing, determined to find something, anything, that would give him a clue as to what was wrong with her. So far, the only thing that he had noticed was that the palm of her left hand was red, as if she had recently struck something with the flat of her hand. The back of his neck and his ears began to burn as he rolled up her sleeves and pants. He had reached for the hem of her shirt when he felt a sharp prick at the back of his calf. He turned to see one of Vikonyx's ivory talons pressed firmly against his skin.

Her lips pulled back to reveal long, curved fangs. "Tread carefully, boy."

Gulping, Thane nodded wordlessly. With trembling fingers, he gently pushed up the hem of the girl's shirt, exposing the smooth, flat stomach. Again, the skin was unmarked. Hastily pulling her clothing back into place, he retreated back to his bag, digging through the contents until he produced a thick blanket. Draping it over her, he sat back on his heels. "I can't find anything wrong with her. What happened Vikonyx? Why'd the connection cut out?"

The dragon hissed in agitation. "Wild magic happened to her."

"Wild magic?" Evaríncel's jaws parted in surprise as his head jerked up.

"Yes. There is wild magic here, beneath this river. That's what causes the lights that people report. There was an explosion of magic early this morning. Keres went to the bank to investigate and, being the idiot she is, decided to touch the water." Her tail slapped the ground and Thane staggered, falling backward onto his rear as the earth beneath him shook. "She started screaming. I could see nothing, but she didn't move; just crouched by the river with her hand in the water and screamed. When she didn't answer me, I tried to grab her shirt and pull her away. But she burned. It hurt my lips, my tongue, and my teeth. It was like trying to bite down on a bolt of lightning." There was a faint pause as the dragon passed her tongue over her lips. " I have never known what it feels like to burn until today."

Thane could feel Evaríncel's disconcertion resounding over their link. It was an emotion that he shared. For a dragon, any dragon, to have been burned by something was unprecedented. They breathed fire. Their mouths were specially designed to handle intense heat. As far as he could remember, Thane had never heard of a dragon burning their mouth on anything.

"I . . . I couldn't hold her. I toss her away from the water. At first, she seemed fine. She contacted Arya and began to tell her what had happened. Then she just collapsed. I tried to reach her mind, but it was veiled from me, and she hasn't stirred since."

Silence fell over the clearing as she finished. Thane was wide-eyed, staring back and forth between the black dragon and her stricken rider. The story was fantastic. There had never been any sign of wild magic in Palancar Valley. Thane himself had visited this area and found nothing. But there had to be reason for Keres' comatose state and he didn't think that Vikonyx would lie about something like this.

It was Evaríncel who finally voiced the question that had been nagging at him. "But why would wild magic do this? There are scholars who study the floating crystal at Eoam and Mani's Caves. They never show any negative effects from being around the wild magic."

But Vikonyx was already shaking her armored head. "You don't understand. This was literally an explosion. We were here for days and absolute nothing happened. We didn't even realize anything was amiss until a few minutes before the lights started. And the power . . ." She trailed off. Thane and Evaríncel exchanged a glance. Awe wasn't an emotion that was common in dragons. After a few moments, the black dragon shook herself. "Imagine a storm, the strongest storm you can think of. And then double, no, triple its power. I've never felt anything like it. And then, it was just gone."

Thane dropped his eyes back to the prone figure. Now that he looked more closely, he could see that Keres' face was slightly pale. The muscles beneath the skin were taunt as bowstrings, giving her a dawn appearance. He sighed. "Well, whatever happened, we need to get a fire going. If we don't bring her temperature up, she'll be in big trouble."

"I dared not try to start a fire on my own. I was afraid that I would burn down the entire forest." Luckily, there was an ample supply of dry wood in the surrounding trees and he was able to quickly gather a sizeable bundle that he stacked a mere three feet away from where the young woman lay. The fire started at a word and quickly grew into a substantial flame. Despite the change in temperature, Keres remained still and silent as a stone. There wasn't the slightest indication that anything around her had changed. Thane frowned. That wasn't good. Dragon Riders were trained to react to their environment, even when asleep. The slightest change should have been enough to wake her. Yet she hadn't responded to anything since he and Evaríncel had arrived.

Recalling what Vikonyx had said, Thane cautiously reached out toward her mind with his own. His mental probe groped in the darkness, searching for her consciousness and finding . . . nothing. He recoiled. That was impossible. He tried again. Again, he found only empty space. It didn't make any sense. He knew that she was there. She wasn't dead, so her consciousness still existed. And yet, try as he might, he couldn't find it. It was as if she had ceased to exist in the mental landscape.

_I've never seen anything like this_. He mused to his dragon.

Evaríncel, who had curled up across the fire from him, lifted his massive head. "More importantly, we've never heard of anything like this happening before. This whole situation just seems off." He was quiet for a moment before asking, "Do you think she'll be okay?"

Thane shrugged. _Your guess is as good as mine, and I have no idea. As far as I can tell, she should be fine. Her temperature might be low, but that shouldn't have anywhere near this sort of effect on her mental state. And what could cause her consciousness to disappear? This whole situation reeks of magic, but not any kind of magic I've ever heard of._

Evaríncel nodded his head a few times. "I suppose our best bet is to wait for Arya and hope that she knows something that can help us."

Thane glumly nodded his agreement, reaching over to check Keres' temperature yet again. She seemed a little warmer, but he couldn't be sure if it was her skin that was warmer or the back of his hand. On her other side, Vikonyx was curled up with her nose pressed against her rider's leg. Evaríncel had finally convinced the black dragon to sleep. It was clear that the events of the day had taken their toll on her as well. She had refused to go hunt, but had agreed to sleep on the condition that Thane and Evaríncel would wake her if there was any change.

Satisfied that he had done everything that he could for the moment, Thane reached into his pocket, retrieving his enchanted mirror. He had no idea how he was going to explain any of this Arya, but he knew that he should report in. Still wondering what he intended to say, Thane spoke the incantation. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Alright, so to answer a question I got from a couple of you, I'm back to posted pretty much weekly. I can't guarantee a day, but I can guarantee at least one new post a week unless I specifically state otherwise. I actually had this entire chapter written, then decided I hated it, scrapped what I had, and re-wrote it. So please bear with me, because my goal is not to put out anything sub-par. At any rate, please read, enjoy, and review. Happy New Year!


	68. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

Keres' first impression was of a dull, aching pain that seemed to suffuse every inch of her being. Everything from the rhythmic motion of her breathing to the faint twitching of her eyelids evoked a deep, throbbing ache. Her thoughts were sluggish, as if they moved through molasses. From somewhere outside these were soft, but clear. She didn't have to stain to understand them. She listened idly for a while, not really taking in any of what they were saying.

Then, something in her mind shifted. There shouldn't have been any voices. She had been alone here. Alone except for . . . _Vikonyx?_

"Keres" Within a few moments, the young woman felt a gust of hot wind on her face as something hard brushed her cheek. To her surprise, the dragon sounded strangely emotional. The touch on her cheek came again as the rumbling voice spoke in her head. "Keres, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

It took a second for Keres to formulate a response. _I can hear you. What happened? Why are there people here?_

"You touched the water coming down from the Igualda Falls, you idiot." Came the scolding reply.

_Ah. _The memories rushed back to her as she groaned inwardly. _The wild magic . . . Yeah, that wasn't my best idea in retrospect. _

"Not you best idea indeed." Vikonyx sounded somewhere between amusement and near hysteria. "I'd say it ranks among your worst if we're being honest."

_I could agree with that. _Keres fell silent for a moment, enjoying the touch of her partner's mind. _Who are the people? _A new thought struck her and she felt a twinge of panic. _The Magician's Guild didn't find us, did they? _

"No" Came the quick response. "It's Thane and Arya."

Puzzled, the query flashed across her mind before she could stop it. _Thane? What's he doing here? _

"You fell unconscious in the middle of our report." Vikonyx explained. "Thane said that Eragon and Arya were worried and contacted him, since he was the closest to us."

_But, Thane was at least a day's flight away. Probably more. And Arya . . . She would have had to come all the way from Du Weldenvarden. Even if she was in Osilon . . ._She trailed off, not willing to believe what she was steadily coming to suspect.

The response came somewhat slowly and awkwardly. "You've been out for nearly three days Keres."

Silence. Shock raced through her system. It couldn't be true, but she could see the reality of it in her partner's mind. It had to be real. _So that's why you were so worried. _

"Yes"

"Keres?" A new voice sounded, this time from outside her head. She quickly recognized Arya's soft tone. With what felt like a massive effort, Keres opened her eyes. Vikonyx's head was still laid alongside her own, but she could see both Arya and Thane kneeling on her other side, staring down at her.

"Hey" The word was croaked and even the small movement of her mouth and throat hurt. But the pain was somewhat less now.

Relief was obvious on the elf-queen's face as she laid a hand against Keres' forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty bad." The admission was proof of exactly how much pain the young woman was in. "Everything hurts, but less so than it did."

Arya's emerald eyes narrowed. "You're in pain?"

"Yeah." Keres swallowed, wincing slightly. "Imagine the feeling that you get after you work out too hard and your muscles are sore. But it feels like that everywhere. I can move, it's just not very pleasant." Glancing back and forth between the elf and the young man, she queried, "Am I injured?"

Thane shook his head, dark hair dancing around his face. "No, we checked you over. Well, I did a preliminary exam. Arya was a bit more thorough. But we couldn't find anything physically wrong with you."

Keres sighed. It was the first good news she'd heard. "I'm glad. The way it felt . . . I wasn't sure if I was actually burning or not." To her dismay, Thane and Arya exchanged a glance and she groaned. "Oh, don't do that. That look is never good."

"Well, you see, the thing is . . ." Thane seemed uncertain what to say.

Luckily, Arya had no such inhibitions. "To say that you were burning isn't actually far off."

The white eyes narrowed as Keres' brow creased. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Can you sit up?" The she-elf asked. "It will be easier to show you than explain it."

The prospect of sitting up was extremely daunting. Had she been alone, Keres would have been content to grumble and complain and slowly work her way into a sitting position. However, with Thane and Arya here, there was no way she was going to show that much weakness. She gritted her teeth, forcing her muscles to move. Vikonyx's head nudged her gently from behind, the hard scales pressing into her back. Thane reached forward, closing a hand around her upper arm and pulling her forward. She flashed him a grateful look, hissing as she finally managed to raise herself enough to look around.

Arya was pointing to a spot some meters away in the grass. At least, it had been grass. Now, Keres stared at a patch of ground that was blackened and singed, as if a massive bonfire had been built on that spot. The stretch was nearly six feet long and four feet across. For the first few moments, Keres simply stared, not comprehending the connection. Then she managed to make out, beneath the layer of burnt grass and earth, a faint indentation accompanied by light skid marks.

Her stomach lurched, "Is that?"

"It's where I threw you." Vikonyx spoke to all of them, casting her thoughts over the clearing. "It's where you landed when I jerked you away from the water. I couldn't hold you. It was like biting into a lightning bolt."

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead as Keres stared at the burned ground. "That was from me?"

Arya allowed her a few more moments to comprehend the situation. Finally, she said, "As you can see, the evidence here doesn't match anything we've ever encountered before. And, due to your condition, your initial report was somewhat garbled. So I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Don't leave out any details." Keres nodded, as much to herself as in response to Arya's request and the older Dragon Rider glanced up toward the sky.

It was only that gesture that clued Keres in to the fact that the emerald dragon, Fírnen, wasn't in the clearing with them. Evaríncel was sitting, curled up behind his rider, calmly surveying the scene. Vikonyx was still laying protectively behind Keres, her body wrapped in a crescent shape that formed a small ridge around the spot where her rider sat. Before she could voice the question, Vikonyx answered within her mind.

"He had not eaten since they left Du Weldenvarden. They were in Nädindel when you contacted her. And, as far as I know, they flew straight here. He had to hunt. He left nearly as soon as they got here, but it takes time to fill the belly of a hunter so large."

No sooner had the final word come across their mental link than Keres spotted a large shadow fast approaching from over the mountains. A distant concussion, like that of rumbling thunder, reached them a few seconds later as Fírnen opened his wings, pulling into a glide that carried him over the tops of the trees. As ever, Keres couldn't help but marvel at the immense size of the creature. The thought that, one day, Vikonyx might reach such massive proportions was simultaneously exciting and terrifying. The emerald dragon seemed capable of toppling a city all by himself.

He landed in a vortex of wind, shaking the ground as he lowered his bulk to the grass. Both of the other dragons eased away from him, pressing themselves against the ground to make room for the newcomer. Folding wings the size of large tents, he turned his head to regard Keres with a single, brilliant eye. She felt the touch of his mind and an avalanche-like voice filled her head.

"It is good to see you awake, Aug-Hvitr."

She inclined her head to him, recognizing the elvish form of her unofficial title. "I am glad to be awake, Master Fírnen. Thank you for coming so swiftly to my aid. I know the journey mustn't have been easy, and I am grateful for your haste." She spoke in the Ancient Language, hoping that her sincerity would translate. The snick of his eyelid told her that he had understood and she was rewarded with a hum of appreciation.

Taking a moment to order her thoughts, Keres began slowly. "You are both aware that Earl David added this task on to my original mission. At the time, I suspected that a group of bandits, particularly ones without any magical skill, seemed a bit too trivial to call in a Dragon Rider. I believed, as I relayed to you both, that this task, the investigation of the Igualda Falls, was the true reason I had been summoned here. However, as the days wore on, I found nothing amiss. There was no sign of anything even remotely out of the ordinary for the vast majority of my reconnaissance. Finally, I decided that I would search for one more evening, and then take my leave of the valley."

She paused, coughing as her throat protested after days of inactivity. Thane quickly passed her a water skin and she drank gratefully. Finally, she was able to continue. "When Vikonyx and I arrived, there was nothing strange happening. I asked her to stay, since I didn't think it would make a difference. We were going to be leaving soon anyways, and no one would think twice about my wanting to visit the Falls on my last night. It was quiet. So I slept, and Vikonyx kept watch. I was dreaming; normal, everyday type dreams." She had to restrain herself from casting a furtive glance in Thane's direction as she recalled the subject of her dream. "And then . . . then it didn't feel like a dream. I saw this light. It was huge. Just a big pool. Like, like a giant lake of water, except it was light. It was so bright."

Keres shook her head. Even the memory of it seemed to blind her. "It was then that Vikonyx woke me. The forest felt different. It felt like we were standing beneath a storm, waiting for it to break. You know, that sense of tension, it was palpable. And then I heard the noise. At first, I thought it was the wind, but there wasn't any wind. And then, later, I realized that it was voices."

"Voices?" Arya broke in. "What kind of voices?"

"All kinds." Keres said, staring down at her hands. "They spoke in different accents and languages and there were men and women and children and old people. I could hear them. There must have been hundreds, maybe thousands of them, all mashed together like a choir. But there were no people. I reached out with my mind, trying to find them, but I couldn't find any life." She looked up at the other two Dragon Riders. "You know how, when we meditate, we can see all of the lives. I realized that the voices were coming from the water, so I reached toward it with my mind, but there was nothing. Instead of that spider web of lights that we usually see, there was nothing. Just darkness. No life at all. But beneath it . . ." She trailed off, not entirely sure how she was going to explain the next part of her story.

When the elf-queen nodded encouragingly, she began again, somewhat more hesitantly. "The light, the one I saw in my dream, it was there. It was beneath the water, beneath the earth. It was like . . . a cave that someone had filled with this intense white light. And as I watched it, I saw it creeping upward, like lava from a volcano. And then it just exploded upward. Think something like the geysers that Eragon found on his travels, the ones that shoot hot water into the air. It was like that, only instead of water, it shot that bright light into the sky. When I opened my eyes, there were lights dancing up the waterfall. I'd just assumed that they were figments of people's imagination, but the lights people described to Earl David, they were real. Vikonyx saw them too."

The black dragon nodded in agreement as Keres turned to look back at her. It felt like, with every motion she made, the movements became slightly less painful, so she slowly began to lift her arms, flexing her fingers and hands in front of her face as she strained to recall every detail she could. "The feeling was . . . indescribable. It hurt, but not in the usual, skin-deep sort of way. This hurt all the way down to my bones, like it was going through me. It was like standing too close to a fire, when the heat starts to hurt. But it wasn't heat. It was just energy. Like pure energy."

She paused, aware of exactly how crazy she sounded. She wasn't certain that, if she were hearing this tale as an observer, she would believe it. But she continued on doggedly. "I thought I knew what it was, but I wanted to be sure. So I drew my sword and . . ." A thought struck her as the words left her mouth and she jerked, staring wildly around. "Where's Skraván?"

"It's okay." Thane rushed to reassure her. "I found it on the ground when I got here. I put it back in your sheath and strapped it to your saddle, where it wouldn't get in the way."

Nodding her gratitude, Keres continued. "So, I reached down and touched the water."

She was rewarded by utterly blank looks from, not just the elf and young man, but the two dragons as well. It was Fírnen who finally voices what they were all thinking. "You . . . touched the water? The water that was emitting strange lights?" He sounded utterly disbelieving.

Shifting uncomfortably, she averted her gaze. "Well . . . It wasn't a good plan, I'll admit."

"That," Arya said flatly, "is perhaps the understatement of the century." But she motioned for Keres to continue.

"I touched it, and . . .I don't really remember much. Just that it hurt. It hurt so much worse than anything I could have imagined. And that's when the voices became clear. I couldn't hear them well until I touched the water, but then they were everywhere. They were all around me and inside my head, just like Vikonyx speaks inside my head. After that, I know that Vikonyx grabbed me and threw me away from the water, but I don't really remember it happening. The next thing I remember, was being on the grass and then making contact with you, Arya. But those things are vague, like they happened to someone else and I was just watching, or like I dreamed it."

Arya nodded. "You were pretty far gone when you contacted us. You seemed . . . off . . . like you were completely exhausted."

"But I was right." Keres said, her voice suddenly strengthening with conviction. "I was right in suspecting what the light was. It was wild magic." When no one answered her, she sat up a little straighter. "It was. I know it was. I've never felt wild magic before, but what else would feel like that? What else would have those effects?"

Her questions echoed and died in the stillness of the clearing. Even the dragons had fallen completely motionless. Again, it was Arya who responded. "There is only one problem with your theory. Cases of wild magic exploding out of the ground are not completely without precedent, but reports of them are very scarce, partly because almost everyone who experienced these sorts of events died. Keres the elves have tales of unrestrained, wild magic burning the flesh off animals, stripping the bark and leaves off trees. If that was wild magic you experienced, you shouldn't be alive."

Before Keres could react, Thane blurted out, "What do you mean you have reports? We studied wild magic as part of our training, and we never heard anything about any reports."

"It wasn't important." Arya's response was short as she glanced sideways at him. "There was no point in giving you information that even we didn't understand yet. Particularly, as that information was without any substantial basis."

"If you don't believe me, look at my memories. I can't lie in those." Keres spoke up quickly as Thane opened his mouth to reply.

"I'm afraid that will have to wait." The calm voice of the white dragon broke through the growing dissent and all three Dragon Riders turned to look at Evaríncel. The white dragon had turned his head and was staring into the forest.

"He is right." Vikonyx agreed. She was also looking in the same direction and, through their connection, Keres could feel the tension in her partner's mind

"And why is that? Arya asked, her voice carefully emotionless.

"Because," This time it was Fírnen who answered, saying, "there are several people currently headed toward us. And they don't smell particularly friendly."


	69. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

For a moment, no one moved. It was only natural that Arya regained her composure the fastest. "Well," She said simply, "this complicates things."

Thane looked over at her. "Who do you think it is?"

"I'd say either an armed patrol, or the Magician's Guild, and if I was a betting girl, I'd chose the latter." Keres' voice was grim as she began to struggle to her feet.

Arya nodded confirmation. "I concur. In which case, we need to figure out why three Dragon Riders would have come together here, of all places." In spite of her unflustered air, Thane could see the tension in her limbs that indicated she was not pleased with this situation.

He looked back and forth between the two women. "Do you think they know about what happens here?"

The elf frowned. "That's the big question. If Keres and Vikonyx didn't make any attempts to hide where they were going, it seems strange that the Guild would wait until now to come investigate given that the event happened over a day ago. However, it's not impossible that they were unaware of exactly where Keres stopped until now."

"If they knew, that only leaves us with a few possibilities, and none of them are particularly pleasant to consider." Keres had finally managed to gain her feet, aided by her dragon.

Brow furrowing, Thane cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"If the Magician's Guild was aware of what happens here, that leaves three distinct possibilities." She said darkly. "One, that they knew and didn't tell Earl David. Two, that they knew and the Earl knew. That would mean that knowledge of this wasn't supposed to get out and David found a way to alert us. Or, there's also option three, that the Guild and David knew, and this was a test to see if we would be able to detect what was going on."

"Sadly, any of those could be true." Fírnen interjected.

"Or they could just have realized that three dragons and riders were all in the same area." Vikonyx added. "That would be enough cause for concern that they might come out to investigate."

Keres growled through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to be able to shake this by the time they get here. I can move, but it will be obvious something's wrong." She looked over at the elf-queen. "Arya, can you help me alter the symptoms? I have an idea that might withstand scrutiny, if we play our cards right."

Arya nodded, already moving toward the younger female. "Thane, I need you to do something about that patch of burned earth. It'll be difficult to explain as is."

"I will go and track their movements." Vikonyx rumbled. "I am a familiar sight in this valley now. And I have been learning the lay of the land since we arrived. I will contact you when they are close." The other two dragons crouched as she reared, unfurling her wings with a snap. Then wind buffeted the clearing, bending the trees, flattening the grass, and pounding the water as the black dragon jumped into the air.

Turning his attention to the stretch of ground, Thane frowned. The fire that he had built was still burning, so it didn't make sense to try and pass the burnt grass off as the sight of an earlier fire. He needed a better disguise. He could try to grow the grass back, but he didn't have any confidence that he could make it match the surrounding area exactly. That would only make the Guild more suspicious if there were obvious signs of concealment. He was still contemplating how to best disguise the spot when a tongue of white flame lanced past him. The heat was so intense that he actually flinched away, frantically trying to blink the afterimage from his field of vision.

Whirling, he stared at his partner. _What on earth was that for? _

The glittering eye blinked with an audible snick. "I sneezed."

_No you didn't!_

"They don't know that."

Thane glanced back, looking at the twice-charred patch of soil. Small darts of flame still flickered around the edges, which had been substantially widened by Evaríncel's fire. _Yes, but still, warn me next time before you do that. A sudden gout of fire is pretty startling if you're not expecting it to happen. _

Across the clearing, Arya had laid Keres back down, this time on a mat of woven fibers. She older Rider was leaning over the younger, murmuring softly as she studied the white-haired girl's visage. Finally, she gave a nod of satisfaction, standing up and glancing around. "Thane, please come and tend to her. Our story won't add up if neither of us are actually watching her."

Thane quickly crossed the grass, moving to kneel next to the prone figure. As he saw what they had done, he recoiled visibly. Keres now had a raised, angry rash on her hands and arms. As she looked up at him, he saw that her pupils were dilated to nearly twice their normal size and her skin was pale and clammy. She flashed him a weak smile. "How do I look?"

"As lovely as ever." He returned the grin with one of his own. When she raised an eyebrow in disbelief, he shrugged. "Okay, well, to be honest you look like death. But that's what we were going for, right?"

She nodded, the smile returning. "Yes, Arya and I decided that that I was stricken with Oleander poisoning."

"Oleander?"

"Yes, it's a dark green shrub that grows in these areas. It produces beautiful, sweet smelling flowers that bloom in red, white, and pink. It's a very pretty plant. So, of course, it's exceedingly poisonous." In spite of her pallor, this time she sounded almost delighted. "It's a good little plant. Causes all the symptoms you see along with nausea and vomiting. In worse cases, you can get tremors, seizures, and comas. I noted a few of the plants around here when I was gathering firewood the other night, so we figured it would be a believable enough story if we just said that I picked some up and threw it in the fire."

"You mean, it's believable if they don't know you." Thane was fairly certain that any Dragon Rider, or almost any inhabitant of Vrenbana for that matter, was aware of the young woman's skill with herbs and plants. Already, the people of Dras Leona were beginning to discuss the poultices and tonics that she sold to the impoverished citizens.

Keres waved a hand dismissively. "Adults, particularly older ones, are always willing to believe that young people make stupid mistakes."

"Well, you did stick your hand in a font of wild magic."

She snorted. "I didn't say that they were wrong."

Arya was moving around the camp, carefully scanning for any indication of what had occurred that might need to be erased. She paused as Vikonyx reached out to them all.

"They're about 10 minutes away, not riding hard, but coming at a decent clip. There are seven in all, but at least two are young, younger than Thane and Vikonyx. The others are older. All are mounted. I will continue to monitor their activities and contact you when they get closer."

Keres' smiled at the sound of her partner's voice. "I don't know what I did to deserve her." She said softly. Leaning back against the makeshift pillow Arya had fashioned, she sighed. "I must have really scared her with this little shenanigan." Her eyes turned to Thane and there was a rare flicker of softness in her gaze. "And I must have scared you as well. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, feeling a red flush begin to creep across his cheeks and the back of his neck. "It's no big deal. I had to find a way to pay you back, didn't I?" He tried to make the comment sound playful, but he couldn't help feeling inordinately pleased with himself.

"Where were you?" She asked quietly.

"Just north of Kuasta. We got here as fast as we could."

Her head bobbed a few times as she digested his words. "Then I must thank Evaríncel as well. That's not an easy flight to make so quickly." There were a few moments of silence where he sensed she was working up the courage to say something else. Her jaw muscles worked reflexively as she chewed on the words. Finally, averting her gaze, she said, "Eragon said that he told you about the circumstances of my birth."

Unsure of whether it was a question or a statement, Thane nodded. "I didn't mean to pry . . ."

She shook her head. "Don't worry. He explained the circumstances. How I was born was never as embarrassing to me as who I was born to. Eragon just didn't want us discussing it too much since it makes the elves uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Oh yes, that's half the reason I'm barely on speaking terms with some of them. Blödh Burthro, they call me: Blood Born. I'm not of the natural world, and thus, they seem me as an aberration to the natural order." A smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. "If I am an aberration, then I'm glad that I'm a good aberration as opposed to a bad one." The grin faded slightly as she returned her gaze to him. "What did you think? When he told you?"

Aware that Evaríncel were watching him closely, Thane cleared his throat. "I . . . well . . . it doesn't really chance much, does it?" When she cocked her head slightly, he shrugged. "I mean, it doesn't change who you are now. Does it really make a difference where you got your abilities? The fact is that you're using them to help people. The skills are a weapon, like any other weapon. It can be used for good or it can be used for evil. The only important thing is the person who wields it."

Evaríncel hummed in agreement, parted his jaws slightly as he murmured, "Well spoken."

Keres' smile widened slightly as she chuckled. "I have to admit, that was a better response than I had hoped for. I've never actually talked to anyone my age who knew the truth. It wasn't really a secret, but Eragon suggested that I not bandy it about. I'm . . . interested? Intrigued? Yes, intrigued to know what questions you have."

Thane opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted as Vikonyx landed in a flurry of wind and wings. The black dragon moved toward her rider. "They will be here in a minute or two." She rolled an eye in Keres' direction. "You look horrible."

Keres stuck out her tongue. "Well, we can't all have your unfailingly good looks."

Arya approached them again, her expression tense. "Let me do most of the talking. If they try to get into your minds, defend yourselves, but do not attack. This already looks suspicious. We mustn't give them any more reason to suspect us of any duplicity."

Both young riders nodded to the green-eyed elf and she nodded in return, striding across the clearing to sit by the fire, between Fírnen's front legs. Meanwhile, Vikonyx and Evaríncel had moved to curl behind their riders. For a short while, there was silence. Then Keres twitched, her eyes focusing on a point in the tree line. "They're here." She whispered. A few seconds later, Thane managed to pick out the thudding of hooves against the ground. Then he saw the movement. Several mounted figures were picking their way through the undergrowth. As they began to emerge from the trees, Thane saw that there were, indeed, seven of them. A man rode up front on a large, black stallion. He was flanked by another man and a woman, and the rest of the riders strung out behind them.

Sure enough, the two riders farthest back appeared to be in their teens, and were gaping, wide-eyed, at the three dragons who sat in the clearing. The adults were doing a bit better at concealing their amazement, but Thane discerned several glances that lingered on the massive, emerald dragon.

The leading rider on his black horse reined in. "Queen Arya, this is quite a surprise." He dismounted with a single, fluid motion.

Thane studied him curiously. This man was bald, his head cleanly shaven. A neatly trimmed, auburn beard adorned his chin. His robes were black and reminded Thane forcibly of a priest, but their cut was less austere. The newcomer bowed, "I am Kent Rancer, 1st Chair Magician of the Palancar Valley Magicians Guild. We'd heard that several dragons were seen heading in this direction, so we rushed out to offer what assistance we could."

"Our apologies. It was not our intention to distress you." Arya said politely. "One of our Riders fell violently ill, and we lost contact with her. Naturally, we rushed here to ensure her safety." She gestured to Keres, who was now staring up into the sky with half-closed eyes. Her breathing was heavy now, and she had begun to sweat profusely. Had Thane not been aware of what was going on, he would have been thoroughly convinced she was ill.

"Ah, Miss Keres. I am sorry to hear that she is unwell. Carvahall was most grateful that she brought those bandits to heel so swiftly." To his credit, the magician actually looked aggrieved. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

Arya shook her head. "We've stabilized her. Looks like Oleander poisoning, though her reaction was more severe than I would have expected. We found traces of it in the fire she had made, so it looks as if she got careless and picked some up by mistake when gathering firewood."

Surprisingly, Thane heard more than one sympathetic murmur from the assembled riders.

The man who rode just behind Kent Rancer spoke up. "My nephew made a similar mistake two winters ago. Though he received only a small dosage, his reaction was intense."

"Pardon me, Arya-Dröttning" Thane looked in the direction of the voice, somewhat surprised by the use of the elven word. An older, silver-haired woman with a lined face was trotting forward on a small, bay mare. She halted as she came abreast of Kent. "I am Gwendolyn Lamierre, Senior Magician. I specialize in healing, particularly as it relates to the fauna of this area. I've seen Oleander poisoning many times. Might I take a look at her?"

Arya's eyes narrowed. Thane could almost see the thoughts racing through her mind. If this woman was an expert, it was possible that she might spot any discrepancy between Keres' symptoms and what those of actual Oleander poisoning would be. However, if Arya declined, it would seem like a slight against the Magician's Guild, especially since Gwendolyn had made her request so respectfully.

"It will be fine." He was surprised to realize that the voice speaking inside his head was not Evaríncel's, but Vikonyx's. "There are few indeed who can match Keres' knowledge of plants. And if Arya provided the spell, then it is unlikely that anyone will notice."

With the slightest inclination of her head, Arya granted her permission and the woman dismounted. The motion was surprisingly smooth for a woman of such age, and Thane respectfully moved aside as the magician crossed the clearing. Her steps were sure, even beneath the unwavering gaze of all three dragons, and Thane couldn't help but feel a surge of respect. Gwendolyn knelt by Keres side, carefully studying the rash along her hands and arms. With a gentle touch, the old woman felt the skin on Keres' forehead and lightly pulled back one eyelid to examine the young woman's pupils.

Thane was close enough to hear the soft "tut-tut" that the woman was emitting at regular intervals. Finally, the older woman sat back on her heels. "Well, this young lady certainly did a number on herself. I've never seen a reaction this severe. But she looks like she'll pull through. Just might take a while." She looked up at Arya. "You were right to be so concerned. She's lucky that you showed up when you did." The wizened eyes turned to Thane and a knowing smile spread over her face, "And she's lucky to be attended by such a handsome young man."

Thane ducked his head, blushing. It didn't help that Keres couldn't completely disguise the faint twitching at the corner of her mouth. The movement might not have been enough for Gwendolyn to notice, but Thane couldn't have missed it.

There were a few more minutes of meaningless banter as Arya and Kent Rancer exchanged pleasantries and offers of assistance. Finally, the man on the chestnut glanced up at the sky. "Kent, we need to be getting back."

The red-bearded man followed his companion's gaze. "You're right Tann." Turning to Arya, he bowed, "We'll take our leave now, milady. If you require assistance, you have only to send of us."

The elf-woman favored him with a rare smile. "Your offer is very generous, Kent Rancer. Please extend my gratitude to your order. We are privileged to have such steadfast allies."

Much to Thane's surprise, the man responded with the elves' traditional gesture of fealty, twisting his hand over his sternum. With another perfunctory bow, he swung back into the saddle and turned his horse. Within a few minutes, all sight and sound of the group was lost in the thick undergrowth of the surrounding forest.

As the last sound of their passage faded, Thane let out an audible sigh and Keres' eyes snapped open to stare at him. "Well," he said, conversationally, "that could have gone much worse."

Arya's sharp voice cut across Keres' response. "That's enough you two. Keres, clean yourself up and prepare your mind. I want to see those memories you talked about. Thane, you're in charge of finding some game for our next meal."

"What?" Keres sounded simultaneously aggrieved and outraged. "But I'm practically dying here! Don't I at least deserve a cool cloth and someone to dab my forehead?"

Arya's flat, unwavering stare was so intense that Thane half expected Keres to burst into flame. Instead, the younger girl ducked her head. "Right, sorry Arya, I was just making a joke."

The elf-queen held the stare for a few more seconds before turning away and striding back toward her dragon.

Thane heard a faint hum of amusement that seemed to be coming from Vikonyx. His suspicions were confirmed when Keres whispered, so low he was fairly sure he wasn't meant to hear, "Can't blame a girl for trying."


	70. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

It was another two days before Keres was well enough to ride. Though the stiffness had faded within the first few hours of her being awake, suddenly movements continued to trigger localized cramps. She had finally had to bound up the rocky slope beside the waterfall without incident before Arya was satisfied that she could handle an extended flight. Constantly weighing on all their minds was the memory that Keres had shared with both Arya and Thane. It was, perhaps, the first time in living memory that anyone had seen the elf-queen dumbstruck.

In light of the revelation that Keres hadn't been mistaken, the elder Rider had quickly sprang into action, contacting not only Eragon, but Tarehlak, Maira, Narilaer, and Logrundag as well. They had conferred for nearly three hours before a decision was finally reached. Thane and Evaríncel would return to Sunvarda and resume their usual duties. Arya and Fírnen would accompany Keres and Vikonyx across the Hadarac Desert to meet with several of the top scholars in the field of magical study. According to Arya, the group that was being gathered to study both Keres and her memories was one the likes of which hadn't been seen since the heyday of the original Dragon Riders.

Arya had gone to Earl David's castle and explained Keres' absence. She had concluded by saying that the younger Rider's sudden illness had prevented her from providing a full report. She had, however, offered send another Dragon Rider to complete the investigation as soon as one was available. Gareth and Tourmal had been temporarily recalled to Sunvarda, while Rok and Rhyolite had been directed return to Farthen Dûr and await further instructions. The three Dragon Riders had departed together, the white dragon winging his way south, while his green and black brethren struck out eastward.

For the first few hours, they had traveled in relative silence. Keres was uncertain of the elf-queen's mood. She had been eerily distracted since the council with the other Riders. Finally, however, curiosity won out and Keres had asked for her opinion on the entire matter.

The question had earned her a sidelong glance. "To say that you continuously surprise me would be an understatement. I sometimes wonder if the usual rules of the world apply to you, or if you are exempt from the laws of reality."

Raising an eyebrow, Keres responded. "That seems like an oddly absolute statement, especially coming from you."

This time, she saw the ghost of a smile touch the elf's face. "Perhaps you are right. I suppose that it would be more accurate to say that you are confirming much of the fears that my race had about you, though not in the way we had expected." When Keres stared blankly at her, she elaborated. "You already know that much of the hostility of the elves toward you was based on the fact that you were not naturally born. You were clearly made with magic. Your very existence is based on magic that we didn't think was actually possible. For us, the natural world is sacred. We live in harmony with it, as part of it. So, for us, something like you, something that doesn't fit into the natural order, is a terrifying prospect. Many thought that you would bring destruction, even unintentionally, wherever you went. They worried that you would upset the natural order and balance of the world."

She chuckled to herself. "You have, but not by bringing destruction. Presently, the only order that you have disrupted is that of our understanding of this world. You are an enigma, down to your very creation. Why can you change your physical appearance, but not your eye or hair color? How can you look so human, but be so elf-like? And now, how can you have survived what has killed all others before you? Why could you see something that no one else has ever been able to? I daresay that this latest event will have even our best scholars at a loss for any explanation."

"None of which actually answers my original question." Keres pointed out.

"Fair enough." Arya said, inclining her head. "In my opinion, it's quite possible that, because of your unique origins, you can sense things that would be impossible for others."

The small conversation had broken the ice. Though they lapsed back into silence, it was a more companionable one, and occasionally gave way to conversation. Arya, it turned out, was a lover of literature, and they spent many hours discussing the finer points of various works. Naturally, Arya was more well-versed in the elven epics and poems. However, she was patient and willing to explain some of the more obscure works that Keres had never even heard of. In return, Keres regaled her with the mythologies and folklore that had become one of her favorite reading subjects.

They were now well into their fourth day of flight and were headed to the settlement of Iskil. The city was fairly recent, having sprung up in the wake of the Rider War, when dwarves no longer feared to walk the lands outside of the Beor Mountains and elves moved freely outside of Du Weldenvarden. It had become a place of magical study that rivaled any in the kingdom. Aside from Vrenbana, it had the most complete store of knowledge in the known world, and dwarves, elves, and urgals all flocked there to pursue their learning. Well known though the sight might have been amongst those races, its existence wasn't bandied about. That, combined with its easternmost location, had kept it out of the eye of the Magician's Guild.

Keres had actually visited the small city during her journey to Vrenbana, but the stop had been brief and late in the evening. What little she remembered of the city had mostly been lights in the darkness off the Âz Ragni. Still, she was excited to be given the opportunity to visit the small settlement. First and foremost, because the people she met there might actually have some idea of what had happened to her. Secondly, because several of the individuals who would meet them there had actually written the books on magic Keres had read during her training.

The city had come into view nearly an hour earlier. It must have been quite small, for it looked only like a faint smudge on the horizon, a miniscule deviation from the regular line of the earth. But the dragons were swift and the ground flashed past beneath them. Fírnen lead, his massive bulk powering through the sky with wingbeats that shattered the air. Vikonyx flitted above and slightly behind him, like a mid-air shadow. Soon, the settlement was more clearly visible, and Keres was able to make out several details.

The main building was a fort-like structure made of stone. It was one of the few buildings to have a pentagonal shape. The dwarf craftsmanship was peerless and the entire structure looked as though it had been carved from a single piece of stone. However, the settlement was unique in Alagaësia as it combined dwarf, urgal, and elf buildings. Numerous squat, stone houses sat nestled beneath the boughs of large trees, each magically shaped to create a dwelling within them. Scattered around the area were several, circular structures resembling boulders. Arya had explained that they were designed to make the urgals feel as comfortable as possible. As the large, horned creatures were used to dwelling in well-tended caves, the dwarves and elves had combined their talents to make the buildings as familiar as possible.

The two dragons swooped over the settlement once, wheeling in the air as they searched for the best spot to land. There were plenty of spots where Vikonyx could have set down with relative ease. Fírnen, on the other hand, had a bit more trouble finding a suitable location. They finally touched down in an open field as the sun kissed the western horizon. Keres glanced across the grass to see a contingent of six elves jogging easily toward them. It was only fitting that they be on hand to greet their queen. Beside them also ran two urgals, both males, and one of them a hulking kull of immense proportions.

The entire group reached them as both Arya and Keres slid down from the saddle. Each of the elves performed the traditional gesture of fealty to Arya before bowing and murmuring, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttning, Fírnen Ramrvangr." As the elf-queen performed the customary response, Keres took a moment to study the welcoming committee. Of the six elves, only two actually showed signs of age. One was a woman with shining, silver-white hair. There were delicate lines on her face and her bright blue eyes held a constant glimmer of sorrow. The other was a male with short-cropped hair. Despite his apparent age, he moved gracefully and easily.

_Why would an elf chose to look old? _Keres asked her partner, puzzling over the discovery.

Vikonyx shrugged. "Elves chose their form based on their idea of beauty. Perhaps age, and the wisdom that accompanies it, struck these two as inherently beautiful."

Three of the other elves looked centuries younger, though Keres knew that was no real indication of their actual ages. The last, however, still bore the faint sheen of magic that always surrounded elf-children. She looked to be no older than twelve or thirteen to Keres eyes, but as she stepped forward to greet Arya, there was an unmistakable tinge of respect in the elf-queen's bearing.

Much to her surprise, as the final greetings ended, the young elf turned to her and, touching her fingers to her lips, said, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Keres and Vikonyx."

Caught somewhat off guard, the white-haired woman hastened to return the gesture. "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."

The elf-girl smiled. "I am glad to finally meet you. I am Kiraka, and I will lead the study into what happened to you in Palancar Valley."

Keres' eyebrows had risen a fraction of an inch before she managed to force them back down. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiraka. I certainly hope that you can help me find answers, for at present I have none."

If the girl was going to answer, her response was forestalled as the two urgals pushed their way to the front of the group and introduced themselves as Nar Runcor of the Bolvek tribe and Teardin of the Alrit tribe. They quickly explained that, at present, they were the only urgals in Iskil. Two more of their number had been summoned to aid in the research, but they wouldn't arrive until at least noon the following day. All in all, the entire greeting took about ten minutes longer than Keres would have liked. They had flown nearly non-stop to arrive here and, in spite of her familiarity with the saddle, her body ached with fatigue.

Arya must have noticed her weariness, for the elf-queen raised a hand to forestall further formalities. "Thank you all for your generous welcome. However, our journey has been long and we are ready for a good night's rest. Perhaps you could show us where we will be staying?"

"Of course, Arya Dröttning." Kira said with a slight bow, "I regret to say that we have no accommodations fit for a dragon, particularly not one so large as Fírnen."

"That is understandable." The green dragon's avalanche-like rumbled filled their minds as he lifted his head, scenting the air. "Vikonyx and I will be fine in the open."

Golden-eyed Kiraka nodded her acknowledgement of the statement before looking over at Keres. "And for you Rider? We were uncertain of what abode you would prefer to stay in."

"If any of the tree houses are available, they will do nicely. I grew quite fond of them during my time in Du Weldenvarden." Keres answered politely.

"Of course" Came the reply. Gesturing to one of the two older elves, Kiraka continued, "Vahir will show you to your quarters. Keres nodded, turning to lift her bags down from the saddle. She was uncomfortably aware of all the eyes that were fixed on her as she completed the movement, throwing the parcels over her shoulder. Kiraka's gaze, though polite, was intent as she looked on with appraising eyes. Ducking her head, Keres quickly followed the silver-haired male elf, who had already taken off in the direction of the town. Behind her, she heard the muted babble of conversation begin again, but they were soon too far away for even that to be audible.

The dwelling they had selected for her was much nicer than she had hoped for. A large oak provided a two-story building furnished with tables, chairs, a wash basin, and bed with one of the thickest mattresses she had ever felt. She bathed in near-scalding water, submersing herself several times before finally emerging and digging through her bags to find a clean pair of clothes. Downstairs, she heard the soft tinkling of a bell, and emerged onto the lower level to find a plate laden with food. Several cuts of meat doused in sauce steamed alongside a loaf of fresh-baked bread. A separate bowl contained a leafy salad and slices of apple. A skin of wine accompanied the meal.

As she wolfed down the food, Keres wondered absently who was doing the cooking for this camp. Most of the individuals here were magic-users of the highest caliber, or else the best scholars their race had to offer. Cooking seemed a strange hobby for one like that, but then again, herbalism was a strange hobby for a Dragon Rider. When you could heal almost any injury or illness with a spell, why bother studying healing herbs? Because she enjoyed it. And she had to admit, whoever the cook was possessed no small level of skill. By the time she had finished, the sun had set outside the windows and the entire city was plunged into the darkness of the new moon.

When she re-emerged from the building, she found that the entire area was strewn with the dwarves flameless lanterns. The glow, which was a different color depending on the dwelling, sent a multi-colored sheen over the area, throwing weird shadows through the branches of the tress. The overall effect was quite pleasant. Keres began to make her way toward the massive stone building, feeling more at home than she had in months. Small though Iskil might have been, it was the closest thing she had seen to Thralmurdras. It was all so familiar: the towering trees, the stone houses, and the . . . eyes?

Keres stopped short, squinting into a patch of deep shadow. A pair of amber eyes stared down at her from within the tangle of branches. For a moment, Keres could do nothing but return the gaze. Then her focus shifted slightly and she was able to make out the figure sprawled along one of the largest branches.

Inclining her head respectfully, she spoke aloud. "Good evening master werecat."

The eyes blinked once, slowly, before a new voice spoke inside her mind. "Good evening young Dragon Rider. I hear you are the cause for all of this commotion."

Keres smiled. "I can't imagine elves making any sort of commotion. The dwarves and urgals, perhaps, but not the elves."

"Elves are boring, uninteresting creatures." Came the reply. "Too much politics and politeness and not enough action. But you are mistaken, young Keres. I cannot remember another time when it was so, but the elves are agitated. Arya did not tell them everything, but what little they know perturbs them." A loud, vibrating purr of amusement rumbled from the furry body. "Elves are quite interesting when they are perturbed."

"Well, I am most certainly glad to have provided such entertainment for you." Keres said, bowing theatrically. "I do not believe that we have ever met. What may I call you?"

There werecat yawned widely. "Always the first question you humans asked. So rude. However, you may call be Solembum, as you master did."

"You're Solembum?!" The exclamation came out somewhat louder than she had intended it to and the werecat flicked his ears in annoyance. Hastily lowering her voice, she muttered, "Sorry, but you're _the_ Solembum? The one who gave Eragon advice during the Rider War?"

"If there is another who goes by that name, I have never met them."

"Wow" Keres took a step forward, craning her neck to better view the dark shape. "It's an honor to meet you."

"An honor, is it?" Came the reply. "I suppose it is." The werecat shifted, climbing to his feet and stretching luxuriously. "She has told me a lot about you. She asked, if I were to see you, to send you in her direction."

Keres didn't need to ask who "she" was. There was only one person Solembum would be taking such requests from. "And what direction would that be?"

"Head down to the bank. You can't miss her."

"And will you be accompanying me?"

There was a pause, as if the werecat was considering his answer. Finally he said, "I think I will. Who knows? Something interesting might happen."

It didn't take long for Keres to find her destination. Even without the werecat guiding her, he was trailing several yards behind her, frequently going off on his own little tangents, she was able to spot the large fire burning nearly a quarter mile down the riverbank. Breaking into a jog, she covered the distance quickly, contacting Vikonyx as she went. The dragon was already bedded down for the night and responded only drowsily when Keres spoke to her. Breaking the connection, Keres slowed to a walk as she approached the ring of firelight, squinting into the brightness to make out the lone figure who stood before her.

The woman, who had been leaning over the cauldron, looked up and grinned from beneath bouncing brown locks. "Keres! What lovely timing. Can you hand me that thyme?"

Glancing around, Keres located the handful of herbs and quickly scooped them up, handing them to the woman. Grinning, the white-haired woman sniffed tentatively at the steam rising from the surface of the liquid. "What are we making?"

"It's either a poultice or a poison, I haven't really decided yet."

Laughing, Keres planted her hands on her hips, shifting her weight as she studied the scene. "So, may I call you Angela? Or shall I continue to call you Gelya? Or perhaps Uluthrek?"

"That's one of the only problems with living so long." The herbalist frowned at the young Rider. "You acquire far too many names."

"Too many names isn't a side effect of a long life. It's a side effect of being so mysterious."

"Ah, but what's life without a little mystery?" Brushing her curly hair back, she studied the young woman. "And you, of all people, should be able to appreciate a good mystery."

Keres laughed. "I don't know where you get your information from. Arya didn't contact you, and I know the dwarves didn't tell you. But damned if I'm not glad you're here."

"Really?" Assuming an expression that was equal parts surprised and flattered, she asked, "And why is that?"

"Because if anyone has any idea what's going on here, it'll be you."

"You have an inordinate amount of faith in me to have only met me once."

"Eragon has an inordinate amount of faith in you. And from everything he's told me, you're the authority on 'quirky' magic."

"I prefer the term idiosyncratic."

"Mm, that is a good word." Deciding that the pleasantries had gone on long enough, Keres finally asked the question that had been on her mind. "So, what is it that you wanted to see me about?"

"What's this? You don't believe I'd simply seek the pleasure of your company?" When the question was met with a skeptical stare from the narrowed, white eyes, Angela nodded. "That's good. You can't spell flattery without leery, though many people tend to forget that part. Truth be told, I wanted to see if you'd come out of your encounter any the worse for wear. It doesn't appear that you have."

"You might have said differently if you'd seen me a few days ago."

Straightening up, Angela studied the young woman from across the boiling cauldron. "You always manage to defy expectation. It appears that even in his old age, your father continues to attract oddities." When Keres didn't respond, the woman's brows contracted. "You aren't going to get upset that I called you an oddity?"

"I happen to find oddities quite enchanting."

A sharp bray of laughter rang through the night. "You'll do, Keres White-Eye, you'll do indeed."

The white-haired girl watched the elder woman return to stirring the pot for a few moments. There was one, last thing that Keres wanted to know. Finally, when it seemed that the herbalist had no intention of saying anything more, the young Dragon Rider decided to take her chance.

"Angela?"

"Yes?"

"The last time we met, you offered to read my fortune. In light of current events, I'd really appreciate it if you could do so now."

Angela's eyes narrowed. Setting aside her large stirring ladle, she studied the flames dancing below the cauldron. "This isn't something to ask lightly."

Nodding, Keres responded. "I know. But Eragon was strong enough to have his fortune told, as was his mother before him. Even Brom's wyrd was known. If I'm to join that lineage, I can show no less courage than they did."

There was silence for a few moments. Then the curly-haired woman shifted her focus. The piercing gaze of those gray eyes seemed to lance straight through Keres, but she held her ground. Finally, the short woman said, "There's steel in you child. Your mentor was strong, but I sense you might be made of sterner stuff." When Keres firmly met her eyes, Angela nodded. Gesturing to a clear patch of ground, the older woman commanded, "Come and sit."

Following her, Keres seated herself on the grass a few feet above the waterline, where the ground began to level out after the sharp slope down into the rushing river. Off to her left, she glimpsed the dark shape of Solembum moving into the firelight. Rummaging through her stores, Angela returned a few moments later with a sizeable plank of wood and a leather pouch. Taking a seat across from Keres, the herbalist laid the wooden sheet down on the ground between them, carefully maneuvering it until it was level. Then, she removed the dragon knucklebones from their holder.

Keres studied them with interest, noting the various symbols carved along their length, and wondered, not for the first time, where Angela had obtained them. She had almost resolved to ask when the woman forestalled her question, saying, "Are you certain of this?"

Keres nodded once, swallowing back the trepidation that was constricting her throat. She could do this.

Casting the bones at the wooden plank, Angela's voice cracked like a whip. "Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!"

Keres felt the familiar tingle of magic lance through the air that separated them. The bones clattered across the surface between them as both women leaned in, eager to see what they foretold. Then both the brown-haired head and the white-haired one drew back in surprise. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

It was finally Keres who broke the silence. "I take it that's not normal."

The bones, which had skittered across the wood, were continuing to bounce and roll as if they had just been cast. They ricocheted off each other and the slab, clattering in all directions. The jarring clack of bone striking bone was continuous, like some macabre wind chime stuck in a strong breeze. Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two minutes. Grey eyes met white above the still-dancing bones and Keres was surprised to see that Angela's face had set into several, hard lines.

Finally, the witch lowered a hand to the bones, covering them with her palm. Only then did the clicking and clattering cease and the bones fell still. Leaning back, the woman quickly replaced the bones into their pouch. "Get some sleep, Keres. I fear you will need it, before long."


	71. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

"So where are Queen Arya and Keres going?"

Only a massive amount of willpower kept Thane from choking on his drink. He had only returned to Sunvarda from Palancar Valley a few days ago, and orders had been handed down that he was to remain at base until further notice. He had taken advantage of the free time to meet up with Nikkal in Dras Leona. They were now seated outside of a small café on the west side of the city. For the last hour, the conversation had been light and fairly innocuous. He now looked up to see Nikkal regarding him closely. Forcing the liquid down his throat, he blinked, "What?"

"Queen Arya and Keres" The golden-haired woman repeated, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand as she studied him over the remains of her salad. "Our latest reports have them flying east into the Hadarac. Where are they going?"

Aware that Evaríncel had woken up and was now observing the conversation with interest, Thane attempted to look casual. "Well, Queen Arya's time is rather valuable. Everything had to be put on hold to make sure that Keres was alright and recovered thoroughly. Keres was going to take up some of Arya's Rider duties while the Queen catches up on her work. There's plenty of that for royalty I hear." He added the last part with a grin, silently thanking Arya for foreseeing such an inquiry and instructing him on how to respond. The elf-queen had worried that the Magician's Guild, in spite of their apparent acceptance of the story the Riders had concocted, would be keeping a close eye on the situation. It was already suspected that the Guild kept tabs on where all the Dragon Riders were at all times, so a deviation such as the one Keres and Arya were about to undertake would be easily identifiable. It seemed that, unsurprisingly, the Queen of the Elves had been correct.

In spite of the joking comment, Nikkal's serious expression didn't waver. Instead, her brow furrowed. "Thane, from what you've told me, it sounds a bit odd that Keres would get Oleander poisoning, of all things. She's a fairly skilled herbalist, isn't she?"

The question was clearly loaded. Thane had already told her that Keres' knowledge of plants was on par with the best herbalists in the country. Moreover, the white-haired Rider had taken to selling her herbs, poultices, and concoctions to the less-well-off citizens of Dras Leona, who couldn't afford more expensive remedies. Her fame had spread rather quickly and even some of the richer inhabitants of the city had sought her out. Suppressing a sense of growing unease, Thane shrugged. "Anyone can make a mistake. She got cocky and was gathering firewood in the dark. Her eyesight might be better than ours, but that doesn't mean it's infallible. To be honest, she seemed quite embarrassed."

Still, Nikkal's gaze didn't waver, but Thane held it steadily. _She doesn't believe me. _

"Of course she doesn't." Evaríncel snorted. "Even now, the Magician's Guild probably has at least a small group of people trying to puzzle out where Keres and Arya actually went."

Suddenly extremely grateful that Arya had refused to tell him exactly where they were going, Thane decided to let the silence stretch and took another sip of his drink. After he felt an appropriate amount of time had passed, he asked, "How are your studies going?"

Nikkal was currently a Junior Magician within the Guild. For over ten years, she had been studying anatomy and healing magic. It was an incredibly complex field that Thane had relatively little experience with. All Dragon Riders were given a basic training in healing. It was necessary that they be able to mend both their injuries, and those of their Dragons. But Nikkal's training had gone far further. At present, she was part of a group studying the nature of several illnesses such as seizures and pneumonia. Her hope was that, in a few months, she would be able to undergo her examinations and rise to the rank of Maja.

The question seemed to snap her out of her mood and she shook herself. "It's going well. We've managed to make a major breath through in the last month or so."

"Really?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her emerald eyes glittering. "Oh yes. Well, you know how mothers are always telling their children to dress warmly in cold weather, otherwise they'll catch their death? Usually, that saying refers to pneumonia. However, we've discovered that there are people who catch it even in late spring and summer. This indicates that there isn't necessarily a correlation between cold weather and the disease." Now that she had gotten started, Thane listened politely as she eagerly explained the numerous experiments they had performed and the studies they had done.

Healing was one of the few fields in which the Dragon Riders had shared their expertise with the Magician's Guild. Much of the knowledge of the Riders had been lost when Doru Araeba had fallen to Galbatorix. The vast libraries had burned and what little the Mad King had been able to scavenge was fragmented and incomplete. Luckily, the Eldunarí rescued from the Vault of Souls had been able to provide a wealth of knowledge that would otherwise have been lost. Granted, it was only a fraction of what the Riders had known, but it was better than nothing.

Nikkal had just began a detailed explanation of what her examinations would likely entail when Evaríncel, who had once again begun to doze just outside the city, jolted upright. "Thane, Tarehlak has called up back to Sunvarda. Apparently Gintare, Nortavog, Stenfeon, Gareth, and Tourmal are already there and await us."

Now that was surprising. It was extremely rare that all the Dragon Riders would be at their base simultaneously. Usually, this meant that orders had gone out to each individual to get them all together for some reason. The problem was, that reason usually wasn't good. Thane could only remember once in living memory that such an occasion had occurred. While he had still been training in Vrenbana, there had been a few months of tension between Alagaësia and Surda. At that time, the Dragon Riders had been mobilized in case they were necessary to stop a full-blown war. As it was, the ordeal had been resolved diplomatically, thanks in no small part to Thane's parents, but he couldn't help but wonder if the readiness of the Riders had also played a part in the resolution.

He had almost made to stand up when a new thought struck him. Running off without any good explanation wouldn't exactly help his case with Nikkal. She was already suspicious that he wasn't telling her the truth. If he just vanished, then it would be quite obvious that something was up and the Guild would know within the hour.

_Well, how do you purpose I get out of this?_

"I could create a diversion." The comment was paired with an image of a large gout of fire.

_No, no that's quite alright. _Thane hastily assured him. _I was thinking maybe something a bit less conspicuous. _

As it was, he was saved by the arrival of a young boy who hurried through the crowded street toward them.

"Nikkal! Miss Nikkal!"

The golden-haired woman looked around in surprise and, spotting the newcomer, cocked her head. "Erudin?"

The boy skidded to a halt next to their table, doubling over to catch his breath. "Magi Terriga has fallen ill! Your presence is requested back at headquarters." It took a few tries for him to get the entire message out, but barely had the last word passed his lips than Nikkal was on her feet.

"Apologies Thane. I have to go."

He rose, inclining his head to her. "No problem. Hurry, and good luck."

Flashing him a bright, grateful smile, she hurried off with the boy trailing slightly in her wake.

Evaríncel watched them go with Thane's eyes. "Well, that was convenient."

_Yeah, perhaps a little too convenient? _Something about the timing didn't sit right with Thane. His mind was racing as he turned and swiftly made his way toward the nearest city exit. _What are the odds that a Magi falls violently ill at nearly the exact same moment that we get the call to return to base? _

"Not impossible, but not strong enough that I'd bet on them."

Ahead of him, Thane could see the crowd outside the gate scattering as the thunderous concussion of his partner's wings shattered the air. By the time he reached the opening, the people had massed on the far side of the trail, staring openly at the white dragon who was pointedly ignoring them. Moving through the open space, he swung into the saddle. There were cries of "Hail, Dragon Rider!" and "Argetlam!" which he acknowledged with a wave of his hand. The latter had become more and more common as the dwarves had once again begun to travel throughout Alagaësia.

As he flared his massive wings, preparing to take flight, Evaríncel rolled a giant eye in Thane's direction. "You seem uncomfortable with the idea that Nikkal and the Guild might be up to something." When the young man didn't answer, the white dragon snorted, leaping off the ground and into the air. "How can that upset you knowing that there's so much you have to keep from her?"

_That's not fair. It's not like I want to keep things from her. _

"That you don't want to hide things from her doesn't change the fact that you do. Your job necessitates it. Would it not make sense if hers required something similar?"

Thane stiffened in his seat. _What are you trying to say?_

"Oh use your common sense. Do you honestly think that the Magician's Guild is open with the Riders? Of course not! They operated for years without any oversight. Whatever power Nasuada hoped the kings and queens might have had over them is superficial at best. No magic user is beholden to anyone save a stronger magic-user. But they resent us. They resent the power that we hold and the knowledge that we refuse to share. Why wouldn't they have secrets they wouldn't share with us?"

_You think I'm acting foolish about this? _His anger got the best of him, and the words came out a bit sharper than he had meant them to.

To his surprise, his partner sighed. "No, I think you're young." The sympathy was evident in his words, and that served to soften Thane's mood a bit.

_And what's that supposed to mean?_

"Exactly what I said."

Thane was about to question him further, but the words died on his lips as they came within sight of the tower. Arranged in a semi-circle near the base of Sunvarda, like three glittering mounds of gems, were Stenfeon, Gintare, and Tourmal. It was the first time he had ever seen the three dragons in one place, and Thane couldn't help but marvel at the sight. Each of them made Evaríncel look undersized, especially Gintare, who appeared as an amber mountain next to the pink and turquoise hills that were Stenfeon and Tourmal.

As the white dragon approached, each of the dragons lifted their heads, acknowledging him with low roars of welcome. Nearing the structure, Thane was able to make out the figures of Tarehlak, Nortavog, and Gareth standing in the center of the circle of dragons. They also looked up as the newcomers approached and Gareth raised a hand in greeting.

_Something about this seems kind of ominous. _Thane remarked.

"Or it could be a party." The joking tone was back in Evaríncel's voice and Thane couldn't help but grin.

_Ever the optimist, eh?_

"I do my best."

Thane was still reflecting that no two friends could ever make up quite so quickly as a dragon and rider when Evaríncel touched down, landing in the space left open by the three waiting dragons. As the young man dismounted, he couldn't help but think that this must have been what standing in a treasure room felt like. In the bright sunlight, the studded hides of all four dragons threw chips of color in all directions. The halo of reflected light surrounding each of them was quite dazzling, and Thane had to blink several times before his eyes finally adjusted.

Dismounting and hurrying to where his companions were grouped, Thane took stock of the small table that had been set up in the center of the circle of dragons. Opposite him, Tarehlak stood, his brow furrowed and a thoughtful frown on his face. To the dwarf's left was Nortavog. The dichotomy between the two was striking, but she had tactfully seated herself on stool so the difference in their height was not so apparent. Across from her, Gareth grinning over at Thane, his hands crossed casually across his chest.

"It's about time you showed. Have a nice visit?" The gleam in his eye told Thane that the older man knew exactly where Thane was and who he had been with.

Thane's cheeks flushed. Gareth Stevenson was well known amongst the ladies, both noble and peasant. His roguish air and natural good-looks had made him easily the most popular Dragon Rider in the country. Nodding curtly, Thane managed, "It was fine thank you." The response only served to widen Gareth's grin, and the older Rider turned away to hide a faint snigger.

Mustering as much dignity as he could, Thane ignored him and, instead, turned to Tarehlak. "Now, what's going on?"

"Yes, I'd quite like to know that as well." Nortavog said softly. "As it apparently requires all of us, I'm assuming it must be pretty important."

Tarehlak shrugged. "These orders came from the top. Eragon wanted everyone briefed together, so, as far as I know, all Riders have been ordered to return to their duty stations." Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a scroll and spread it across the table. It was a map, detailing the entirety of Alagaësia, Surda, Golrazi, Vrenbana, and all of the lands to the west that Eragon had explored during his search. It was, all things considered, likely one of the most accurate maps currently in existence. However, what caught Thane's attention, were the numerous colored areas that had obviously been marked quite recently.

"Eragon received word from King Fiachre early today in regards to a potential problem brewing on our northern border." Tarehlak tapped his finger on the map, indicating a point just north of Ceunon. "As most of you are aware, last year, Keres and Vikonyx made contact with an invading army that has taken over a portion of Golrazi. She was instructed to warn them against moving too far south and invading our territory. They are seafaring race, so they refuse to move too far inland, instead opting to take as much land as they can on the coast of Golrazi. As of last year, they were bogged down subduing the border cities of the territory they had appropriated."

He gestured to an area of Golrazi that had been outlined in red. The splotch covered most of the western coast, and stretched nearly a hundred miles inland, as far as many of the largest tributaries ran. "However," the dwarf continued, "spies placed in Golrazi by the King have reported that, after the spring thaw, a large portion of the army has been seen moving southward, toward our border."

A ripple went around the room, but it was Gareth who voiced the question on all their minds. "Do we expect them to try and invade?"

"We're not entirely sure." Tarehlak growled. "From what we can gather, and this is confirmed by elves sent from Du Weldenvarden to verify the report, there appear to be two camps within the Bogurk ranks. One portion of the army seems excited at the prospect of seeing if we are as formidable as Keres makes us seem. She explained in her initial report that they are a very war-like race, who value strength in arms above almost all else. To this end, their warriors want to fight the strongest opponents possible, if only to test their mettle in combat."

"If we knew this, then why did we approach them? We may as well have issued a challenge." Nortavog snorted.

"The risk was deemed equal to the potential reward. And, as it were, Keres warning does seem to have helped us out, if only a little." Tarehlak explained. "If they thought that Alagaësia would be as easy to conquer as Golrazi, then they would likely have marched south almost immediately. Right now, the other camp is reluctant to challenge us. Keres apparently made enough of an impression on some of the men that they believe fighting us wouldn't be worth the trouble. Right now, the movement southward is under the guise of securing more territory, but we don't know exactly how far they're willing to go."

"So," Gareth said slowly, "the gist of the situation is that we _might_ be going to war against a well-trained, invading army with an unknown amount of men and material."

"Pretty much." Tarehlak looked around at each of them. "Per Eragon's instruction, daily combat training is now mandatory for all Riders, regardless of rank or experience. Obviously, we don't want this to come to war, but if it does, we'd best be ready for anything." He paused, before adding, "I don't think that I need to tell you that, if we do go to war, this will be the first time that the Dragon Riders have ridden out in force since our rebirth. This will be our first chance to show our true worth to the rest of the world. We would be wise to ensure that we make the best impression possible, should the worst come to pass."

There was silence for a few moments as each of the Riders stared down at the map, slowly digesting what they had been told.

Finally, Thane voiced the one thing that had been nagging him. "But, we know that the Bogurk have no magicians of their own. Keres confirmed that. They can't even use magic. Why would we be necessary to defeat them? Surely the imperial army could match them, with the Magician's Guild behind them."

To his surprise, it was Nortavog who answered him. "I have spoken at great length with Keres about these invaders. Each of their men is trained in combat from the time they are children. Some of the women receive the same sort of preparation. Man for man, they are vastly superior to the majority of our soldiers, many of whom would be volunteers anyways. Perhaps in the days of old empire, the army might have sufficient to combat this threat, but now, they'd be greatly outmatched if the enemy is anywhere near as capable as Keres believes they are."

Thane frowned. The imperial army that had existed during the reign of the Mad King and immediately following his downfall had been a force to be reckoned with. However, in the many decades following Nasuada's rule, the size of the army had been repeatedly downgraded. There were simply more opportunities for people outside of the military. Aside from that, keeping a large, standing army cost money and material that most people weren't willing to pay anymore. Even the garrison at the castle in Ilirea consisted of only three thousand men with another two thousand reservists that could be called up if they were needed. The lord of each city was required to keep a certain number of soldiers at the ready, but even with those, the number of professional soldiers would barely top ten thousand. Certainly, that number could swell to well over 20,000 if conscripts were included, but the average conscripted man wouldn't stand a chance against a warrior trained from birth.

"Still," Thane insisted, "it seems a bit unfair. They don't know what they're getting in to. They don't know how strong we are or what we can do."

The dwarf fixed him with a hard stare, but it was Gintare who answered. "If war should come to our land, then that very fact might save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives. A surprised enemy is an enemy that is already halfway defeated."

Thane had no answer to that, and it was Gareth who finally broke the heavy silence that followed. Slapping a hand to his shoulder hilt, he looked around at them. "So, who's ready for some training?"


	72. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

"Vík du knífar un skjóta thom mít älfrinn!" The torrent of words shattered the morning stillness. Keres accompanied the command with a fierce swipe of her hand and had the satisfaction of watching the knives, which had been speeding toward her, perform a sharp u-turn and hurtle back toward Arya.

"Blöthr" The elf-queen's command was soft, but the knives froze in mid-air before falling into the thick grass. With a flick of her wrist and another murmured word, she sent a volley of cracking green energy orbs flying across the space between them. Keres' eyes narrowed as she swiftly assessed the attack before barking out her next spell. When they were a mere two feet from her, the projectiles swerved, ricocheting off to either side of her before smashing into the ground. The scent of burnt grass filled her nose as she readied herself for the next exchange.

The elf queen closed the distance between them like a cat, seeming to simply materialize in the space directly to Keres' right. Only her swift reflexes allowed the white-haired youth to duck beneath the sword-stoke aimed at her head. Her leg shot out as she dropped, seeking to sweep the older rider off her feet. But Arya leapt sideways, aiming a downward stroke at Keres even as she fired off another energy orb from her free hand. Though Eragon might have been the superior swordsman, Arya was peerless in her ability to integrate magical attacks into her sword-style.

They traded blows, Skraván's black blade ringing against the emerald steel of Támerlein. In spite of the snarl that creased her lips, Keres was ecstatic. Skilled though her colleagues at Sunvarda might have been, they couldn't match her speed and skill with a blade. But Arya was glorious. Keres shifted from stance to stance, throwing everything that she could muster at the she-elf, but every time her stroke was blocked. They exchanged one final flurry of strikes before breaking apart again.

Keres was already formulating her next spell when Arya spoke again. "Enough, Keres." The green-eyed elf straightened up, her posture relaxing as her head turned to face the main building.

With a faint nod, Keres shifted out of her battle-stance. Her limbs were coated with sweat and the strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail stuck to her face like clinging vines. In spite of the various tests she had undergone in the past few days, Arya had insisted on training with the young Dragon Rider at least two hours a day. She seemed determined that Keres expend every bit as much energy here as she would have going on patrols. After all "Dragon Riders do not get vacations" she said, at least three or four times a day. However, if her intention was to make Keres want to get back to her normal job, she was failing.

As far as the young Rider was concerned, a morning of dueling with Arya and performing various tasks for the researchers followed by an afternoon of reading in the library or flying with Vikonyx made for a nearly perfect day. Patrols, though they did provide the opportunity to see new places and meet new people, could get tedious after a while. Privately, Keres wondered if she could pitch the idea of allowing a retreat like this every so often to Eragon. It could be good for moral. Well, assuming that Arya wasn't in charge of training.

Her training style was somewhat different than Eragon had utilized. While he had preferred to pose challenging puzzles or problems that Keres had to solve via magic, Arya was much more likely to fire spells at random or set magical traps that Keres would have to respond to. The latter of these were particularly irritating when they were set in random spots on the paths around Keres' quarters or on the entrances to certain buildings. After twice finding herself completely frozen in place, Keres had learned to carefully inspect the area around her with magic before moving or touching anything. It didn't necessarily take any extra time, but it did force her to be more vigilant than she was used to. The exercise also provided endless entertainment for Vikonyx, who had gleefully commented every time Keres because caught in one of Arya's traps or failed to block on of her spells.

At present, Arya was staring off across the field, back toward Iskil. Her brow furrowed every so often, and Keres knew that she must have been communicating with someone in the village. She was silent for more than a minute. Then she turned back to Keres. "Return to your quarters and freshen up. Kiraka has asked us to come to the library in about an hour."

"Does she have news?" Keres hadn't intended to cut across the older Rider, but her excitement got the better of her. A raised eyebrow from Arya was enough to make her duck her head. "Eka baen Arya."

Acknowledging the apology with a dismissive gesture, the elf responded. "It would seem that, at the very least, they have come to some sort of consensus. What that might be, we shall have to wait and see."

Though Arya had participated in several of the studies that had been performed on Keres, she had curiously absented herself from the larger forums the other researchers had held on a near-daily basis. All in all, there were fifteen individuals that made up this study group. Kiraka and her five companions had been joined by Nar Runcor, Teardin, and two more urgal magic users, both female, who had been introduced as Huevog and Gatugen. Four dwarves had been sent from King Orik's personal guard to assist in the research. At first, they had been standoffish, almost hostile, toward Keres. However, upon learning that Eragon had adopted her as his daughter, and after spending a few evenings drinking and sparring with her, they had begun to warm up. The fact that she had managed to sever her mother's hand didn't hurt matters either. Dorgem, Tarorsel, Gurin, and Amurra had been eager to have her recount the battle, and to share their findings with regards to the crystals that had been recovered from the encounter.

Keres quickly retreated to the tree where she had been staying, pausing only to watch Fírnen and Vikonyx sparring high above her. The two dragons had been training every bit as hard as their Riders. Almost every morning had found them high in the sky and every evening, they had sat and discussed battle tactics and various other subjects. A few times, Keres had joined them, eager to hear what the elder dragon had to say. Aside from Saphira and Thorn, Fírnen was the oldest living dragon and thus, had the most experience. Through their connection, Keres could feel her partner's sheer delight and the girl smiled to herself.

Within the hour, she had washed and changed into a clean pair of clothes. Now, dressed in a light blue tunic and a pair of grey breeches, she hurriedly strapped Skraván to her side and rushed through Iskil to the main research building. All of the dwellings were empty, which indicated that all of the researchers were awaiting them. She had gotten about halfway to her destination when a shadow fell over her.

"You're going to find out what they've learned, yes?"

Keres glanced toward the sky, her eyes alighting on the magnificent form of her partner. _Yeah_

"You're nervous."

_You know, usually people ask that as a question. _

"Why would I do that? I already know that you are."

For a few moments, the link was silent, then Keres sighed. _Vikonyx, what if what they find isn't good? They're not just studying what happened in Palancar Valley. They've been studying me as well. _

The black dragon twisted in mid-air, curling back on herself to swoop over her Rider. "What could they find that wouldn't be good?"

_I don't know; there are tons of things._

"Like what?"

Keres's eyebrows came together as she frowned. Truth be told, she didn't have any clear idea of what she thought might happen. She had simply been experiencing a nameless dread when she thought about what the researchers might find. There wasn't anything specific that she was afraid of, just that they would find something bad. _I . . . I'm not sure. _

"Then worrying won't help. If you can't even figure out what you need to be afraid of, then there's probably no point in being afraid, at least not in this situation." The comment was accompanied by a rush of wind as the dragon dipped low, ruffling Keres hair as she passed. "Whatever they find, you know who you are. You are my Rider. You are Eragon's daughter. And there is nothing that can take that away from you."

Keres smiled gratefully. Somehow, her partner always seemed to know what was bothering her, sometimes before Keres herself figured it out. _Eka dunei ono, systir abr iet hjarta. _

Her partner responded with a gout of black fire that painted the sky. Hurrying onward, Keres found Arya waiting for her outside the library. Though the elf-queen nodded encouragingly, Keres couldn't help but feel a twinge of trepidation. Given the tests she had been subjected to, there was every possibility that this meeting would reveal their findings and conclusions on her and her origins as much as the situation in Palancar Valley. Swallowing back her fears, she gestured for Arya to go first and followed her elder into the room.

The library was one of Keres' favorite spots in the city. The few spots of wall that weren't lined with tomes were broken by small reading nooks stuffed with cushions. In the style of the library in Thralmurdras, there were statues placed at intervals throughout the space. Heslant the Monk, the elves Earnë and Analísia, the dwarf Hruthmund, and many others gazed around at the suppository of knowledge with approving eyes. But, for once, Keres had no eyes for them. She could see only the large table that sat in the center of the room, and the individuals who occupied the chairs arrayed around it. All fifteen members of the research team were seated at the table, which was littered with papers and books of various sizes and colors.

Arya crossed the room swiftly with Keres following behind her and, together, they sank into the final empty chairs. All eyes were fixed firmly on the white-haired young woman, who could already feel her cheeks and neck burning beneath the fierce scrutiny. Still, she tenaciously held the gazes, despite her growing uneasiness. The elves sat, as impassive as ever, regarding her coolly. The dwarves were somewhat more welcoming, nodding to her as she entered. The urgals . . . well, Keres had yet to master the facial expressions of that particular race, so she had no idea what they were thinking. It was part of what made them so dangerous, she reflected. But the thought was driven away as she noticed the final figure seated at the table. Angela grinned widely at her from Kiraka's right-hand side. Behind her, in one of the dark nooks, a pair of red eyes glinted at her out of the darkness, indicating that Solembum was also on hand. Luckily, it seemed that Arya was as impatient as she was to get this meeting under way.

"Well? What have you discovered?" The air of command was unmistakable, even amongst such exalted individuals. Keres, forgetting her discomfort, leaned forward eagerly. The first two days at Iskil had consisted mostly of her reliving the events in Palancar Valley over and over again for each of the magic-users. The first few times had been interesting enough. There were small details that she had either overlooked or forgotten that stood out to her the more she watched. Eventually, the exercise had grown rather tedious and she had struggled to concentrate on the memory. It had only been after each researcher had seen the memory three or four times that they had been satisfied, and had begun to put her through other tests. They had put her through a battery of physical and magical tests that had tested her skills and endurance to their limits. And now, it was time to figure out what they had found.

It was Nar Runcor who answered Arya, his horned head bobbing up and down as he spoke. "We have each examined the memory of what occurred in Palancar Valley. Initially, we were convinced that there were only two plausible explanations. The first was that Keres had fallen prey to some other magic user, who had manipulated her memory of the occasion in order to hide their presence. The second was that Keres had, for whatever reason, perceived the events incorrectly or altered her own memory of the events."

"Naturally, each of these explanations comes with its own implications and problems." Nineve, the old, female elf spoke up in her clear, soft tone. "However, upon further testing, the first option seemed unlikely. Keres grasp of magic convinced us that her skills were adequate enough that she would be difficult to overcome by magical means."

"Adequate?" Gurrin snorted from his seat, stroking his long beard. "You're a hard woman, Nineve. That girl uses magic like one twice, perhaps three times her age. You can't deny that even you elves were impressed by her skill."

The she-elf glanced sidelong at him before continuing. "There are few individuals, regardless of race, that could overcome someone with your training," she glanced at the dwarf once more, "and ability. Nor did we find any evidence that you misrepresented the events that you witnessed." She paused and Kiraka took over.

"Therefore, we can only conclude that what you experienced was an actual occurrence of wild magic. No similar anomaly has ever been reported in that particular area before, but our examination left little doubt as to the true nature of the events you witnessed."

"Of course," Tarorsel spoke up from her seat, "that begs a whole host of other questions. We know for a fact that nearly every individual who has witnessed an anomaly of this kind has been killed by it. The very few eyewitness accounts we have are from people who were relatively far away, but even they ended up sustaining some sort of damage from the encounter. You, who actually touched the water and immersed yourself in the magic, somehow managed to survive without any apparent negative effects."

Keres snorted. "Unless you count the pain and unconsciousness as negative effects." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arya open her mouth, a troubled expression on her face. However, the elf, Vahir, forestalled any comment she might have made by rising and shrugging his robe from around his shoulders. Keres couldn't contain a soft gasp as the soft material fell away to reveal a shiny, pink series of burns along the elf's chest and left arm.

"While we acknowledge that your experience was unpleasant, you must understand that the symptoms you displayed were paltry compared to what others have suffered from simply being near the anomaly." His words were quiet and without barbs, but Keres lowered her gaze, shamefaced.

"Eka hlak onr yesin, Vahir-elda." She murmured.

Pulling the fabric back over his injuries, he shook his head. "It is given. Think nothing of it child." Retaking his seat, he continued. "It is unlikely that your survival was due to any skill on your part. You're strong, but there have been both elves and dwarves several times your age and vastly more experienced in the magical arts who have perished as a result of encounters with wild magic. Therefore, we could only assume that your good-fortune was born of some inherent trait that you possess. It was for this reason that we put you through such strenuous testing."

"And have you found anything that we didn't already know?" Arya sounded slightly agitated, and Keres could understand the sentiment. Thus far, as they had said was that she was crazy or a liar. While that was all well and good, if they hadn't discovered anything else, then this entire detour had been a waste of time.

Kiraka leaned back in her seat, peering at Keres over tented fingers. "I believe that we have. As we originally suspected, Keres appears to be a continuation of her mother's experiments into manipulating the characteristics of each race. We can prove this now, as we have identified several unusual factors in Keres' makeup. Obviously, her appearance is human, but her abilities are more consistent with that of the elves. However, we have also discovered that her bone density is much thicker than either of those races. In fact, it more closely resembles dwarves than anything else. As her anatomy is consistent with that of humans, it is likely that having thicker bones kept her elf-like strength from decimating her body. No human could keep up movements such as hers without sustaining massive amounts of trauma to his or her muscles and bones."

She paused, and then added, "But that was not the end of our findings." Glancing around the circle, the she-elf finally fixed her gaze on Keres once again. "You have also displayed a trait that we haven't seen before. It appears that you possess a certain level of resistance to magic."

Keres mouth dropped open. "I . . . what?"

"It's actually quite fascinating." For the first time, Angela spoke up. Her curly hair was pulled back, and she was lounging easily in her chair, looking quite excited. "You're not immune to magic, but we've found that it has a slightly lessened effect on your than it does on other individuals. You wouldn't have noticed, since the only magic-users you've been in contact with are all pretty skilled. They possessed more than enough power to push through your resistance. However, were you fighting a relatively unskilled magic user, its plausible that their spells might not affect you at all."

Keres glanced to her left, only to find Arya staring back at her. The elf-queen seemed at a loss for words, but finally managed to say, "And . . . you're certain of this?"

"Yes" Kiraka said solemnly. "There is little doubt. We have no idea from where this trait comes from. We have no records of it anywhere. Nor have we ever encountered any individual with a similar ability. But it is the only thing that fits on all levels. Even that small amount of resistance could be what saved her when she came into contact with the wild magic." She leaned forward in her seat again. "I don't need to tell either of you that this is an incredible discovered. This is something we've never seen before and, frankly, it goes against everything we thought we knew about how magic operated."

Silence fell over the room as Keres and Arya digested this new information. Through their mental link, Keres could feel Vikonyx's shock as well, though the dragon remained silent.

"So, what comes next? We can't spare Keres forever. Every Dragon Rider is needed." Arya looked from face to face.

Nar Runcor loosed a small ruk, ruk of amusement. "We know this, Queen of the Elves. That fact ruled out several plans that we would ordinarily use. We have limited time to study this before Keres will have to return to her duties."

"Luckily," Angela said cheerily, "we have an idea. Ideally, we would find some magic users of minimal skill and have them fire some spells at her to see what would happen. But we don't have the time for that, nor do we want word of what we're studying getting out until we're more certain of what we're dealing with. So we've opted for a more . . . interesting option."

She paused, eyes sparkling. Sensing that the herbalist was waiting for the question, Keres decided to oblige her. "Which is?"

Angela's grin widened so much, Keres was sure it would split her face in two. "We're going to send you into Mani's Caves and see what happens."

* * *

Vík du knífar un skjóta thom mít älfrinn. – Turn the knives and shoot/throw them at her.

Eka baen. – I sorrow (I'm sorry)

Eka dunei ono, systir abr iet hjarta. – I love you, sister of my heart.

Eka hlak onr yesin, Vahir-elda. – I cry your pardon, Vahir


	73. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

Thane shifted uncomfortably in the thickly cushioned seat, feeling droplets of sweat running down the small of his back. Though he wasn't directly in the baking, Surdan sun, the heat was stifling. Not even the four servants who stood arrayed around the small cluster of chairs and waved huge fans, could alleviate the oppressive warmth. Even the faint breeze felt hot. Beside Thane, the lord of Melian, a tall, slim man named Zardain, leaned on one elbow. His expression was contorted with apparent concentration. However, his eyes were distant, and Thane felt almost certain that the lord wasn't paying a bit of attention to the demonstration.

Cursing yet again inside his head, Thane glanced upward at the sun. He had hoped that his observation of the soldiers and cavalry in the city would be a fairly informal affair. However, forewarned of his arrival, Zardain had arranged for an official presentation. The morning of the previous day had been spent watching some 300 soldiers drilling in close formation. Today, it was horsemen. Surda had always been known for its heavy cavalry, but its neighbor, Alagaësia, had slowly began integrated mounted troops into their force as well. The Surdans, perhaps feeling that their supremacy in the field was being threatened, had ramped up their military might. Luckily, as the Alagaësian force consisted mostly of mounted archers, so the rivalry hadn't gone too far. Even the horses were substantially different in size and build. Alagaësian horses tended to be small and quick on their feet, while their Surdan counterparts were large, powerful beasts capable of carrying their armored riders.

Zardain, Thane, and several lower ranking city officials were now seated on a raised dias, watching a group of horsemen in full military regalia drilling on the ground below. The commander of the troops issued commands via a horn, signaling turns, about faces, and charges. The animals were definitely well-trained. They moved with amazing precision. Thane even wondered if the men would be able to perform the motions, had their mounts been removed. Judging by the looseness of most of the reins he could see, he thought not. Not that he was unimpressed. The display of skill was quite striking. Still, his appreciation of good horseflesh and crisp, military maneuvers could only extend so far.

_You're lucky. You should be down here with me. You're every bit as capable of making this assessment as I am. _His eyes flicked upward as he sent out the thought, briefly scanning the heavens for a glimpse of white.

"Nonsense. Everyone knows that dragons are just an exotic means of transportation." There was something incredibly smug in Evaríncel's tone. A brief image from his partner showed Thane a herd of deer bounding across a green field.

_You got angry when Nikkal implied that. _

"Yes, well, when Nikkal implied that she was completely serious." There was a pause, then, "Do you know when you'll be finished?"

_Not a clue. Hopefully soon. I'm roasting down here. And these bruises aren't going to treat themselves. _He winced at the thought. He might have been on patrol in Melian, but that did not excuse him from the new direction to continue training at an increased pace. Luckily, there had been a dwarven caravan traveling through the city and he had been able to join their sparring session earlier that morning. The caravan guards, who hailed from Dûrgrimst Urzhad, were skilled fighters, and had given Thane nearly as much as he could take. Their weapons were heavier than he was used to fighting, and they were viciously fast on their feet. A large, purple bruise on his side gave testament to a strike from a heavy war-axe that he had failed to block.

The Dragon Riders didn't believe in healing such paltry injuries with magic, but there were advantaged to having someone like Keres working at your station. She had made a small medical kit for each of the Riders stationed at Sunvarda. Going through it earlier, Thane had discovered a jar filled with a poultice that would help to heal the bruises. Unfortunately, the timing needed to be very precise so that he didn't injure his skin. The poultice couldn't stay on for more than an hour, so it would be inadvisable to put it on before this presentation. So he had changed into his official uniform and gone out without treating the injuries.

Curiosity flashed across their link as Evaríncel spoke up again. "I thought you were excited for this? War strategy and troop preparation are things you enjoy."

_I do like those things. _Thane grumbled inside his head. _But seeing the men like this doesn't really help me. They know they're being watched by their lord and by me. I daresay they spent the entirety of yesterday and this morning preparing for this. It has no reflection on how they'll actually perform in battle. _

"So what will you do?"

_I'll have to get up early tomorrow and try to sneak out so I can watch the troops incognito. _The thought drew an involuntary groan from Thane that he was barely able to stifle.

Down on the field, the final note of the horn died away as the horses and riders formed up into a neat formation, facing the raised platform. Lord Zardain rose to his feet and Thane hastily followed. The commander of the troops saluted and the lord of the city returned the gesture before turning to Thane.

"Well? What do you think? They are well-trained, no?"

_If by well-trained, you mean capable of responding to clear signals on an empty battlefield with no enemy in sight and nearly a day to prepare, then yes. _"They certainly are. Your commander seems capable."

Zardain nodded emphatically. "You will not find better, not even in the royal cavalry. Nanuntak is exceptionally skilled."

Turning to the assembled men, Thane inclined his head. "Thank you for that demonstration." Returning his attention to the man next to him, he continued, "I must return to my room now to prepare my report. Your cooperation has been most helpful."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Thane was finally able to excuse himself back into the quarters he had been assigned. Luckily, they weren't too far away, so he was mostly able to avoid the various inhabitants of Melian. Closing the door behind him, he slumped against it, tilting his head back until he was staring at the ceiling. As quickly as he could, he stripped off his clothes, most of which were damp with sweat, and hurled them into a corner. The rooms of the lord's keep in Melian were designed so that what little breeze blew across the plains cooled the rooms. Thus, the temperature in here was significantly lower than it was outside. Now dressed only in his trousers, Thane hurried to one of the many tables that dotted the area and poured himself a glass of water.

_Thank the gods that the southernmost cities aren't in our jurisdiction. I can't imagine how miserable it must be down there in the summer._

His partner's chuckle showed both amusement and agreement. "I will be at least an hour. Is this acceptable?"

Evaríncel was still flying. The dragons weren't exempt from the training directive, and thus, he had developed his own regiment to keep his skills sharp. Thane had watched as he practiced lifting heavy rocks and hovering for extended periods of time, breathed fire for minutes on end, and performed complex flight patterns and maneuvers. Thane knew that his partner was growing increasingly frustrated with his inability to complete some of the most difficult moves, but then again, the dragon was comparing himself to fliers the likes of Saphira and Vikonyx. Thane had attempted to explain that this would be the equivalent of his comparing his natural ability to that of the elves, but Evaríncel had ignored him.

_Yes. That's fine. I'm just going to take a bath and treat my injuries. Take as long as you need. I will visit you tonight. _

The acknowledgement he received was brief, but certain. Crossing the room to the massive tub that sat in a recession, Thane pulled back the curtain and began to twist the knobs on the wall. As warm water gushed into the basin, he pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the bathtub. With a sigh of relief, he felt the heated liquid flowing over his numerous black and purple bruises. With steady fingers, he began to massage the every dark mark that he could reach. It was slow and painful going, but he knew that it was important to make sure that the blood flowed well. If he let it pool beneath the skin, the bruises would last much longer.

Sighing, Thane tilted his head back until it rested against the carved headrest behind him as he completed his task. It had been an exceedingly long day. In addition to their usual patrolling duties, Dragon Riders were now expected to observe the state of the soldiers in each town they visited. The call had already gone out that the military would need to be mobilized. The professional soldiers that were provided to all larger towns by the empire would be constantly ready for battle, but every city would also have to raise its own supply of troops to be sent to join the imperial army. Many of these would be only local guards or civilians who acted as part of the reserve forces, so there would be a substantial amount of training necessary to turn them into an effective fighting force. Surda and the independent city-state of Tierm would be expected to supply troops as well, so even here, in Surdan territory, Thane was expected to fulfill his duties. Melian, being on the small side for a town, boasted only a small standing force. Still, he couldn't help but think that every last soldier would be needed if this fight was to be half as bad as the Riders suspected it could be.

Shaking his head to brush the thoughts away, Thane let his mind go blissfully blank as he relaxed into the water. The last few days had been stressful, more so than even he had expected. He had seen Nikkal only sparingly, and on those occasions, she had been distracted and a little distant. The entire Rider corps had begun an intensive inventory of all material in preparation for possible requisitions. Every piece of armor had to be inspected and graded based on quality and condition. Every arrow had to be counted, every gemstone noted, and every enchanted object catalogued. Usually, the time spent at Sunvarda was supposed to be relaxing. It was a break from patrols when a rider and their dragon could recuperate. Lately, Thane had felt that the time spent at base was almost more tedious and exhausting than that spent on patrol.

He allowed himself to soak for almost twenty minutes before heaving himself to his feet. Rummaging through his bags, he located the pouch that Keres had given him and slathered a generous helping the salve across the largest and darkest of his bruises, securing the medicine with clean, white bandages. Leaving off his shirt, he finally turned his attention to a table that he had set up shortly before the military presentation. A single, large scroll sat alongside a silken pouch, flanked by several small, flat-bottomed orbs. He gently picked up the scroll, carefully loosening the ties that held it shut. He had purchased this map nearly a month earlier from a group of elves that had briefly visited Dras Leona. It was a map, perhaps one of the most complete maps available. Expanded by Keres recent trip through Golrazi, along with the elves knowledge of terrain and calligraphy, it encompassed nearly the entire western portion of the continent.

He unfurled the map, spreading it out over the table and weighing down the edges with the spherical stones. Opening the pouch, he removed several small, wooden figurines and set them down around the outside of the image. This was an exercise that he had seen his father complete many times in his youth. Each figurine represented a specific type and number of soldiers. Placing them around the board would give him an idea of the spread of the Alagaësian forces. He had a pretty good idea of the fighting powers of the country, courtesy of both his studies as a young boy and the detailed information the Dragon Riders always kept on hand. Naturally, such info wasn't shared with apprentices, but all full-fledged Dragon Riders had access to the countries numbers if they felt inclined to take a look.

Quickly checking the list of figures he had scribbled down, he placed several of the figurines near various cities on the map. For many of the smaller settlements, the number of men they would be able to contribute would be so small as to be nearly inconsequential. Soldiers were demanded based on the population of each city or town. Including the conscripts from each city, Thane estimated that Alagaësia would only be able to muster around 10,200 troops. Surda would be able to provide another 7,000-8,000. But would that be enough? Spies within Golrazi were reporting that more of the invaders were showing up every month or so, appearing from over the sea in fleets of ships. Low estimates placed their number at some 13,000, with higher estimated reaching well into the 20,000's.

And that didn't even begin to get into the fighting powers of the Bogurk. All sources seemed to indicate that this was a culture steeped in combat, but even warrior cultures could run the gambit in terms of martial skill, though the range of said gambit was generally much higher than in non-militaristic societies. He crossed his arms, scowling down at the map. He had read the reports of the Bogurk that Keres had written, they had been distributed to every Dragon Rider, but that hadn't really told him what he needed to know. The small eccentricities of an army were what often made the biggest difference in battle.

"Why don't you just call her and ask?" Evaríncel's irritated tone broke through his thoughts. "Your brooding is distracting."

_Call who?_

"Keres, who else? She's the only one who's ever actually seen the Bogurk."

_I could . . . but they weren't going to mention this to her yet. They want to see what the researchers will find first and they don't want her distracted. _

"Well then, you'll just have to come up with a good reason as to why you are asking. It wouldn't be unusual for you to be curious about a new culture."

_I don't know. _

The dragon's exasperation was obvious as he answered. "You were a prince, weren't you? Your family wouldn't be where it is if you didn't have a good poker face and an innate ability to bend the truth."

_Was that an insult? _

"I'm not entirely certain. But either speak to her or stop agonizing. You're distracting me."

_Sorry. _

Somehow, Thane didn't think it would be quite as easy to fool Keres as his partner was making it out to be. Still, she was the only possible source of information and, he realized with a pang, it would be good to see her again. They had parted ways quite abruptly. He quickly located the mirror and the spell was on the tip of his tongue before he caught sight of his reflection in the glass. Whistling at his close call, he quickly donned a loose, clean shirt, and then returned to his seat, propping up the mirror on a small table. Thane quickly muttered the spell, watching as the mirror turned dark and the cleared.

A few seconds later, Keres' face appeared in the glass, looking somewhat puzzled. Then a broad smile broke over her face. "Thane! It's good to see you. How've you been?"

He returned the smile. "Not bad. Just doing the usual patrols. You do remember what those are like, don't you?"

She made a face. "Ah, someone's got jokes today. Exactly what I needed." Still, she didn't sound angry, and that was encouraging.

Leaning forward in his seat, Thane asked, "Well? Do you have any answers?"

She shrugged. "They're fairly certain that what I encountered was actually wild magic. But they're uncertain as to how I survived, or why I was able to see the magic, not just feel it. We're currently headed to a new location to test out some of their theories. And I get to be the guinea pig, lucky me." The last two words sounded somewhat bitter.

"You didn't expect them to test those theories on anyone else, did you? It's usually a cliché, but to say that you're one of a kind is actually pretty accurate." He pointed out reasonably.

She shot him a rueful smile. "Well, no. But logic doesn't really make me feel any better, does it?" Shaking herself, sighed. "But, I'm sure you didn't call to hear about my problems. What's up?"

"I can't just call to chat?"

"You could." She admitted, a half-smile now playing around the corners of her mouth. "But you're a male and males don't think to do things like that."

Adopting an expression of exaggerated indignation he snorted. "Oh ye of little faith."

"Am I wrong?"

"Well . . ."

"That's a no then." The note of triumph and satisfaction in her tone was slightly galling. But she waved a hand in the air. "Not that it matters. What did you want to know?"

Shifting in his chair, Thane watched her expression closely. "I wanted to ask you about the Bogurk."

Her eyebrows rose with surprise. "The Bogurk?"

"Yeah, what were they like?"

The young woman cocked her head, regarding him curiously. "You got a copy of my report. Everyone did."

"Well yeah," Thane said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but an official report often leaves a lot out. You know that. I want to know details. What's their culture like? What are their warriors like? What's their king like?"

"Why do you ask?"

And there it was: the question he had been dreading. Affecting an air of unconcern, he answered, "I'm curious. Culture was part of what mother had Thaddeus and I study when we were children, and it's an interest that I've held on to. This is a completely new people. Surely there must be some interesting tidbits you can share with me that didn't make it into the circulated report."

He watched her eyebrows sink suspiciously. For a few moments, she studied him, then her expression cleared. She nodded a few times to herself, her white-hair bobbing with the motion. "They're coming, aren't they?"

_Damn. _Despite the structure, it was more of a statement than a question. More importantly, she didn't sound or look at all surprised. Thane shrugged, deciding that honestly was probably the best policy here. "We're not sure yet. They're moving south, but we don't know if they intend to stop at the border."

He watched her cheeks tighten as a crease appeared between her brows. "They won't. I suspected this might happen. No, I knew it would. It was unavoidable."

"What do you mean?"

"I understood them too well." Keres drew in a long sigh. "I recognized their mentality. It's one that I've always shared. They aren't just a war-like race, they're a warrior race. You've felt it to, haven't you? The heart of a warrior always cries out for a challenge. Whenever a strong opponent appears, your heart races and your breath quickens. You cannot help but long to pit yourself against them in combat. Once they learned that we exist, and what we are, it was inevitable that they would want to test their strength against ours."

Thane's eyebrows rose. "But you didn't tell them anything about what we are?"

"Oh come on Thane, I thought you were intellegent." The look of skepticism that she gave him set a flush rising in his cheeks. "Do you honestly believe that they don't know who we are? If they don't have at least a few spies scattered around Alagaësia, I'd be aghast. You can guarantee that they know about the dragons, and, likely, about our magic."

She was right, Thane knew that. It wasn't something he had considered, but now that she said it, it seemed like an obvious assumption. "But," he protested, "if we knew that they would feel like this, if you knew, why would you go to them? Why not just explain that to Eragon and forego the message?"

Keres was already shaking her head as he finished. "It didn't matter what we did. Whether we approached them or not, they would have learned about us and the outcome would have been the same. As it was, I think Eragon was right to try and cow them. If nothing else, it might have bought us a little time. They won't rush in to attack us. And that extra time will let us prepare." There was something in her tone that sounded almost rehearsed, and Thane wondered if she hadn't had this very discussion with herself. For the first time, it occurred to him that she might consider this possible attack to be at least partly her fault. But she was still speaking. "A war might be inevitable, but it may be possible to mitigate the amount of lives lost." She tapped a finger against her lips. "The important thing is that we have to convince them that the cost of fighting us is too high."

Thane raised an eyebrow. "That's usually only said of wars people don't expect to have a clear winner."

"Oh, there will be a winner." She said quickly. "They won't win. They can't. They have no magicians. The Magician's Guild might not be particularly powerful, but if they can muster up 200 individuals capable of producing even a reasonable attack spell, they'll be a substantial problem for the Bogurk. And when we join the fight, they haven't a chance of standing against us. But they might not know that. We just have to convince them to surrender or retreat before too many lives are lost."

The look of concern on her face surprised him. She seemed genuinely upset at the thought of so much bloodshed. Though he hadn't really thought about it, Thane had always considered her to be one of the more warlike Riders. She loved combat. Incredulously, he asked, "You don't want to fight them?"

"It's not that." She shook her head again, white hair swirling around her face. "They're strong. Every member of their race would make a worthy opponent, so I cannot deny that I relish the thought of actually fighting against them. But they are a formidable and proud race. I respect what they are, what they are trying to do. I would not see them slaughtered needlessly, if I could help it."

She fell silent, her brow furrowed with concentration. Thane regarded her for a long moment. Yet again, it seemed, he had underestimated her. She was usually so straightforward and logical in her dealings with others, that sometimes it was easy to forget exactly how complex Keres actually was. Every time he thought he understood her, she revealed some new facet of her personality that caught him off guard. Of course, females in general were pretty difficult to understand, but somehow Thane felt that Keres might have kept more hidden than most.

Suddenly, she jerked, blinking several times as she glanced up at something he couldn't see. "I'm sorry, I spaced out didn't I?" She grinned sheepishly. "I've had a lot on my mind of late."

He smiled back at her. "Don't we all? Don't worry about it."

"I do need to get going. I have . . . some big things to do tomorrow." For the first time ever, Thane saw a look of trepidation flicker across her face.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you can handle it. And then you'll come back and we can have a drink and catch up." He hadn't actually meant to add the last part, but now that he had said it, he realized that the prospect was actually quite inviting.

Her lips curved upward in a wicked smile. "Are you asking me out for drinks? I was under the impression that you were a taken man, Thane." His cheeks flushed bright red and he opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Joking. I was joking Thane. I'd like to grab some drinks after this. It'd make for a nice change of pace." The mischief drained from her expression, leaving it bright and open. "Goodnight Thane. Be safe."

Still feeling his cheeks burning, he mumbled. "Goodnight Keres. And good luck."

* * *

Apologies all. I've got some crazy stuff going on right now, so for the next few months, these posts will likely be sporadic if they happen at all. Rest assured, I definitely intend to finish the story, it might just take a little while. After things have settled down, I will resume a normal posting pattern. I appreciate all of the comments and support from everyone.


	74. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

Mani's Caves, it turned out, were less impressive than their reputation. Had she not known what they were, Keres would have likely overlooked the small openings in the mountainside. There were about six of them, though only two opened at ground level. The others were gaping holes in the rock that yawned like lipless mouths, attempting to swallow the clear, crisp air. Led by Kiraka, for Arya had finally returned to Du Weldenvarden, their little group had arrived in the small, dwarf settlement that was the only dwelling in the immediate vicinity.

Dûrgrimst Quan, as the keepers of the dwarf's religion, kept a small group of priests here to guard the caves. Naturally, the dwarves didn't know the true reason for their visit. However, as travelers were not uncommon, their claim of wanting to visit the caves raised a relatively small number of eyebrows. Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves, only one member of each race had been allowed to make this journey. Kiraka represented the elves. Nar Runcor was there for the urgals, and Gurin was present to represent the dwarves. The only exception was that Angela had been allowed to come. Well, Angela and Solembum.

Now, Keres was standing in front of the cave entrance, staring into the darkness. Beside her, Vikonyx was dubiously eyeing the black hole, her tail twitching from side to side. "I don't like this. This cave feels . . . strange."

_Well, it's full of wild magic, so that's to be expected, isn't it? _

"I can't come after you in there."

_"True. But I won't be alone. Regardless of what I face, I'll have backup. Kiraka, Nar Runcor, and Gurin are all magic users, and they're not exactly pushovers. More importantly, I'll have Angela and Solembum. _

Vikonyx snorted and a curl of smoke drifted up from her nostrils. "And that last fact is the only reason I'm not completely against this whole endeavor." She reached forward, nudging Keres' arm. "Be careful, alright? I've seen what this magic does. It's dangerous."

Keres smiled, fondling the armored muzzle. "_Haven't you heard the news? I'm dangerous too."_

The playful comment earned her a gentle nip. "Only to yourself, heart-sister."

"Keres?" The white-haired woman looked up to see Kiraka standing on her other side. The elf-girl gestured toward the cave. "We need to get started. There's no telling how long this will take."

Keres nodded and gave Vikonyx one last pat before squaring her shoulders and marching forward into mountainside. Though she shared her partner's trepidation, she knew there was no point in waiting. This moment would come whether she wanted it to or not. Better to face it now than to spend any more time agonizing. Besides, she reminded herself, there might be no reason for her fear. Mani's Caves were visited by many pilgrims each year, and almost all made it out unscathed. What this place was best known for was inducing visions, and those had never physically hurt anyone. Certainly, they could be disturbing, possibly traumatic, but still, the trial was mental, and Keres was confident that she could handle any mental stress that came her way.

The shadows fell with astonishing quickness and, within the first thirty meters, the cave made a sharp right and all light from the opening behind them vanished. Squinting in the darkness, Keres murmured, "Brisingr hvitr" and a bright, white werelight popped into existence over her hand. The spell drew a wry smile from her lips. It was one of those little items that she and Eragon had often teased each other about. It amused Eragon to no end that Keres simply couldn't use the spell "brisingr." When conjured, the flame would always be the color of the magician's magic, and, in the case of a Dragon Rider, the color of his or her dragon. This meant, of course, that Keres' spell would produce no light at all. Though rather impressive looking, black flames didn't illuminate anything. Keres only defense had been the fact that Eragon couldn't use "brisingr" at all without his sword flaring up like a torch.

"On the plus side, we have the upper hand in all night battles." Vikonyx pointed out and Keres' grin grew wider. That was certainly true. Though the heat from her partner's flames was still tangible, it was damn near impossible to see the actually fire that poured from her maw when the dragon flew at night, particularly if it was cloudy or a new moon.

Movement on her left drew Keres attention and she glanced over to see Kiraka walking alongside her. "Remember," the elf said, "you need to focus. Look for that white light you saw in Palancar Valley. If you can find it again, we might be able to confirm that you can, in fact, see wild magic."

Keres bobbed her head once in acknowledgement. She had spent all night examining the memory of that light, trying to determine exactly how she had managed to view it. The sensation hadn't felt any different than her usual meditations. The light simply hadn't been there the first time she looked. She suspected that the effect had been similar to a volcano. Just as the magma wasn't usually visible until the volcano was ready to explode, perhaps the magic wasn't visible until it was pushed closer to the surface in preparation for a single, intense burst. If that was the case, then she should be able to see the white light fairly easily here, since the flow of magic was fairly constant. Of course, there was a nagging worm of doubt in her mind. What if she couldn't see anything? Did that mean that she hadn't really been able to see magic? Or that something had gone wrong inside her? Then she mentally shook herself. _If you fear to fail, then you almost certainly will_. It was another of the pearls of wisdom that Eragon had drilled into her skull. She had to believe that she would be able to see the light if and when it appeared.

The orb of light she had conjured bobbed along above her head as she strode forward, deeper into the caves. She had extended her consciousness out fractionally, gently probing into the space around her. She could sense the small flickers of life that inhabited the various mushrooms and fungi that grew on the slime-covered walls. However, she hadn't found even a glimpse of that brilliant light. Certainly, there was a strange something that lingered on the edge of her senses, but she couldn't pinpoint a specific cause.

Nor did it help that she could hear Angela behind her muttering to herself with each cluster of cave plants they passed. The increasingly excited murmurings only fueled the smile that was creeping over her face. It was Nar Runcor who finally commented. "Careful Uluthrek. At your age, surely it is not good to get so excited."

"At my age?" Angela sounded almost affronted. "Can't you see that I'm in the prime of my youth?"

"You're not fooling anyone." Gurin spoke up. "There isn't a child alive who hasn't heard of the herbalist Angela who helped Eragon defeat Galbatorix. I've heard that the Quan use you as something of a scary story. If the children are bad, than the witch Angela will swoop down upon them."

The curly haired woman sniffed dismissively. "Yes, well, they never really got over that whole Hûthvír situation. Nonsense really, since I won the game fair and square."

"If you're going to chat then you can all wait here." Kiraka said coolly, looking back over her shoulder. "You're distracting Keres."

"You can't distract someone who doesn't need to concentrate." Angela pointed out.

"She will if the cave's effect turns out to be less pronounced than we theorized."

"But wouldn't that be an answer in and of itself? I mean, our theory was that she might be more sensitive to wild magic. If it doesn't affect her as much as it does most pilgrims, then isn't that something to note, even if it isn't what we expected?" Gurin asked.

Kiraka opened her mouth to respond, then closed it with a wry grin. "I'm not going to get anywhere in this discussion, am I?"

That was one of the things Keres liked most about the young she-elf. Though, at times, she could be every bit as stoic and difficult to read as the rest of her species, there were times when she exhibited a disposition closer to that of humans and dwarves. She had a sense of humor, and, on occasion, allowed her exasperation or impatience to show in a most un-elf-like fashion. For the first time, Keres wondered if this was merely an eccentricity of her personality, or if it was a result of growing up in a world where elves had more frequent contact with the other races. She had noticed this growing phenomena amongst many of the youngest members of each race. There was a certain similarity between the demeanors and mentalities of those youths that had grown up in close contact with members of the other races.

The sound of her name jostled her out of her contemplation, and she glanced back just in time to catch the tail end of the comment.

" . . . Keres can tap into the power of this place."

Nar Runcor cocked his horned head. "Is there some concern that she can't?"

"Not at all." Angela responded cheerily, "But history tells us that the more interesting things a person has in their head, the more important and intriguing their visions are." Angela explained. "So if you're a boring individual, you'll have boring visions."

Gurin chuckled. "Is there such a thing?"

"Of course!" Angela sounded almost surprised at the question. "Imagine if you had a vision where the only thing you learned was what you were going to eat for dinner that night? Wouldn't that be a waste of a perfectly good vision?"

"I dunno." The dwarf said, shrugging. "It'd be a pretty neat trick, and it would save many of us the hassle of having to think up what to make for dinner on the fly."

Nar Runcor chuckled even as Angela shook her head. "Typical dwarf, you have no vision. Luckily, Keres here is _extremely _interesting so, chances are, we'll get some top-notch visions out of her."

This time, Keres couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. "And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

Silence. Keres glanced back over her shoulder. "Angela?" But the witch was nowhere in sight. Actually, there was no one in sight. Keres found herself staring at a wall of stone that filled the corridor behind her. She blinked, eyes scanning the surrounding stone. "Gurin? Kiraka?" When there was no answer, Keres felt a sudden thrill of foreboding. _Vikonyx? _Again, the silence answered her. A frown creased her face as she dropped the barriers around her mind, stretching her consciousness out into the rock that encased her. There was nothing: no mushrooms, no moss, no insects, no life. The minds of her companions, which she had been able to sense only moments before, were gone. Keres couldn't comprehend it. They had blazed like suns, even guarded as they were, and now there was only darkness.

"What the . . ." It made no sense. She knew that Mani's Caves were famous for inducing visions. But this didn't feel like any kind of vision she had ever heard of. She reached down, pinching the skin on the back of her arm. It definitely hurt. Puzzled, she ran her hands over the walls around her. The stone certainly felt real enough. It was cool and her fingers came away slimy. It occurred to her that she might be able to cut through the rock behind her, but she dismissed the thought almost instantly. If this was a vision, it would likely have no effect, and if it wasn't, she could easily bring the cave down on top of her. Sighing, Keres hung her head. _How do I always manage to end up in these situations? _

Then she straightened up, her eyes turning down the dark passage that stretched away ahead of her. There was no way to go now but forward. Still, she didn't intend to let her guard down. With every sense stretched to the upmost, she began to cautiously move along the tunnel. At the very least, she still had here werelight to illuminate the space around her. That was comforting at least, since it told her that magic still worked. Time and distance seemed irrelevant in this shadowy world. She might have been walking for ten minutes or ten hours for all she knew.

Her steps were so silent that the sudden plunk of her boot sinking into a puddle of water startled her. She leapt backward, eyes dropping to the floor as she lowered her hand to the hilt of her sword. Ripples spread across the small pool of liquid, emanating from the spot where her foot had broken the surface. Her hand had almost returned to its usual spot by her side, when she froze, mid-motion. Her eyes widened as she stared down into the water that was slowly settling back into an unbroken sheet. Something was wrong. Though the werelight she had summoned still bobbed above her head, casting a soft light down on the puddle, it did not appear in the reflection. More importantly, the face that stared back at her from the surface of the water was no light-haired and white-eyed. It was dark-haired and gray-eyed.

Terror and shock rose in Keres' chest, threatening to halt her breathing as she stared into a face she would have recognized anywhere. Though she had never seen her mother so young, the visage of the Sorceress was unmistakable. At first, they stared at each other, so still that they might well have been reflections in opposite sides of a looking glass. Then the Sorceress moved and her body came into view. She wore a cloak of light gray that failed to hide the swollen belly that stretched her clothes. The grey-eyed woman glanced around her furtively before moving out of sight. Then the puddle went blank and, a moment later, Keres was staring at her own face.

It was only then that she became aware that her hands were trembling. _What the hell was that? _As far as she knew, her mother had only ever been pregnant once. That meant that it would have been Keres herself in her mother's womb. It couldn't have been any other, for the woman had aged significantly in the intervening time. Her mind was racing as she tried desperately to comprehend what she had just seen. She was so distracted that she almost missed the faint tendrils of white that appeared around the edge of the puddle. However, as they drew her attention, the light grew somewhat brighter.

She watched in amazement as they coalesced at the top of the puddle before stretching out onto the bare rock of the floor. It was like watching a lightning bolt move across the stone. She stared, spellbound, as the light scuttled away from her, casting a faint sheen onto the slime-covered walls. Her first instinct was to follow, but a small voice, one that sounded suspiciously like her partner, spoke up in the back of her mind. _Reckless. You have no idea what that is. _It was true, of course. But try as she might, she couldn't come up with a better idea. The passage hadn't branched since she began to walking, and, as far as she could see, it didn't branch up ahead either. There was only one way to go.

She quickened her pace until she again caught sight of the light. It had ceased moving and was, yet again, flickering around the edges of what looked to be another pool of water. This time, she was somewhat prepared for the image she saw unfolding within. The Sorceress, her stomach reduced to its usual size, sat in a rocking chair. In her lap was a bundle of blankets and, within that, lay a small, white-haired baby. The child was sleeping, its hands tucked up underneath its chin. As the woman began to rock, the small child squirmed unhappily and opened its eyes to reveal bright, white orbs with dark pupils. Keres stared, fascinated.

The Sorceress leaned over to stare into the bright eyes of the baby. "You are the culmination of everything that I have worked for. Your destiny was written even before you were born, and I have worked ceaselessly to bring it about." The baby gurgled softly, blinking plaintively up at the woman who had woken it. Her grey eyes narrowing, the Sorceress leaned forward to plant a kiss on the tiny, wrinkled forehead. "This world is a series of delicate balancing acts." She whispered, "Tip the scales just a little and the world can either go plummeting into chaos or ascending into harmony. The question is which way will you fall?"

Keres shuddered at the words. She recognized them from one of the more famous elvish poems. Master Narilaer had worked with all of the apprentices when they were first learning to speak and write in the Ancient Language, and she remembered having a lengthy discussion with both him and her fellow apprentices about the poem. Initially, all of the youngsters had been in agreement that harmony was the more desirable choice. However, once Narilaer had suggested that they try to imagine a situation in which chaos would be better, it had occurred to Keres that what Eragon had done, challenging Galbatorix and seeking to overthrow him, had spread chaos over the whole of Alagaësia. When she had brought this up, she had earned a rare smile from the stoic elf. It was his words now that came back to her and she murmured them aloud. "Neither chaos nor harmony is good in and of itself. Neither are they evil. You must not let yourself be bounded by such trite conventions. Each situation must be judged on its own, and each concept evaluated in its turn." She swallowed hard, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the woman who could neither see, nor hear her. "I will fall whichever way this world requires. If a true, honest harmony can be reached, then I will dedicate myself to achieving it. But if chaos is required, then I will do what is necessary."

No sooner had the last word dropped from her lips than the scene went dark. She watched the white tendrils form yet again and begin to make their way, faster this time, along the floor. Keres followed, only half paying attention as she digested what she had seen. She had no memories of the images, but that was only fitting, since she had been unborn in the first and not even a year old in the second. However, there was no way to confirm the validity of the visions. Were they actually images of the past? Or were they simply the manifestation of her own unconscious mind? The former seemed more likely. A wry smile touched her lips as the thought struck her. _Likely? _What a ridiculous word to describe the situation she was in.

Her attention had slipped so much that she almost stepped directly into the next pool of water, only catching herself at the last moment. The abrupt motion almost sent her reeling backward. This time, she recognized the background of the scene. It was a small, secluded cabin in the foothills that she and her mother had often used during her childhood. Her younger self, now around three or four years old, sat on the floor, playing with a brightly colored ball. It would have been a completely normal scene, had it not been for the fact that the ball was hovering several inches above the child's palm and routinely changing colors as the child murmured words in the Ancient Language. The Sorceress looked on, a strange, fevered expression on her face as she watched her daughter playing.

"Keres" The sudden sound of her name caused the adult Keres to jump. The child, on the other hand, didn't even bother to turn around and face her mother. The black haired woman leaned forward, peering intently into the young face. "What is it that you want?"

The ball halted, mid-flight, and the small, white-haired child turned. Long bangs fell away from her face as she looked up and, despite knowing what she would see, Keres still felt a chill as she saw the familiar, colorless eyes staring out of the open face. "I want to be strong."

The woman smiled. "And that, I can do for you."

"No, that's wrong." Although Keres knew that neither the mother, nor the child could hear her, she spoke aloud. "No one else can make you strong. The process of gaining strength is equally as important as the acquisition itself. How you gain strength determines how you will utilize it." It was one of the first lessons that Eragon had taught her. It had been years before she could completely understand it, but once she had, she had clung tenaciously to the mantra. It was, she felt, the biggest separation between herself and her mother.

This time, as the pool went blank, she glimpsed her own, pale face staring up at her before the light began to move again. This time it raced along the ground, no longer creeping, but flying over the slippery rocks. Keres, fast though she was, had to sprint to remain in sight of it. The passageway flew past her as she wove through twists and turns that demolished all sense of direction for her. At numerous places, she skidded, shoulder-first, into the stone walls of the tunnel as the light took a sudden, sharp turn and she was unable to completely halt her momentum. She stumbled twice and lost sight of the light at times as it slipped around a particularly sharp or abrupt corner, but always, she managed to catch sight of it again.

Her footsteps echoed in the absolute silence of the underground. The sound echoed and was magnified within the tunnel until she was certain that they must be able to hear her above the ground. Then the sound died as she slowed to a halt, brought up short by the sight that now greeted her. This time, there was no pool of water awaiting her. There was no soft light. Extending from the floor of the cave to the roof and blocking the entire passageway, was a solid cascade of water.

Keres stared in disbelief at the liquid sheet that barred her path. Though it appeared to fall from the ceiling to the floor, she could discern no obvious origin for the cascade of water. Nor could she locate any trough or crack through which the stream could vanish so abruptly. It made absolutely no sense that such a large volume of water could completely disappear. There were no gaps or breaks in the continuous flow. In fact, the sheet was so complete that she could even make out her silhouette reflected in the rushing stream. The few drops that spattered and leapt up onto her skin were icy cold.

Even more unsettling was the sound. Where she would have expected to hear the rush of falling water, there was, instead, a low, continuous murmur. She felt the hair on her neck and arms stand on end as she recognized the sound. It was the same that she had heard in Palancar Valley, however, this time, she could recognize the babble of voices. It sounded to her as if hundreds, maybe thousands of people stood on the other side of this sheet of water, whispering and talking amongst themselves. And yet she could sense no one else, anywhere.

There was something utterly forbidding about that water. The sensation was the same she had often felt when she and Vikonyx had flow out over the Shore of Ghosts outside of Vrenbana. The depth and darkness of the water had always convinced her that danger was lurking just out of sight, and if she fell in, she would never be able to get out again. She had no way of knowing how thick the sheet was. Still, there was nothing to be gained by going back.

Narrowing her eyes, she chewed her lip for a moment as she struggled to concoct the spell she would need. Drawing on her knowledge of the Ancient Language, she barked out the command, seeking to halt or slow the flow of water from ceiling to floor. There was no effect, not even the customary draining of her strength that would indicate the spell was working. Keres glanced up at the werelight above her head. Magic still worked here, else the light would have vanished. Racking her brains, she quickly came up with an alternative spell and cast it, before attempting a third and then a fourth. She tried to direct the water to either side. She tried to freeze it, then to evaporate it. Nothing. She might as well have not been casting at all. She briefly toyed with the idea of trying to gouge a passage for herself to the side of the water, where she might pass without touching it. But she quickly dismissed the idea. Cutting into rock when she had no idea as to the structure of the cave was foolhardy at best and suicide at worst. There was nowhere else to go.

A scrap of a rhyme she had often heard as a child drifted through her mind, and she smiled humorlessly. _Can't go over it. Can't go under it. Can't go around it. Gotta go through it. _She drew in a deep breath and stepped into the water, her hands stretched out ahead of her.

* * *

Whew, this was, by far, the hardest chapter I have ever written. So many disjointed ideas to try a weave together. My apologies for the exceedingly long wait. As always, questions and comments are appreciated and I will do my best to respond to them in a timely fashion.


	75. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66**

The smooth, polished surface of the egg felt cool against Thane's palms as he gingerly removed it from its case. He and Rok had been up since dawn, preparing the garden where they were going to present the dragon eggs to the rider candidates. It had taken nearly an hour for them to lay down spells of protection around the entire area. The Riders hadn't had any problems in the past few decades, but there had been rare cases of families paying for enchanted items or spells that were designed to give their children a leg up on the competition. These didn't work of course. The dragons within the eggs couldn't be fooled by such mundane tricks, but it was always better to know those who would try to deceive the Riders.

Ever so carefully, Thane carried the steel-blue egg to the table they had set up. Rok was already there, straightening out the cushion beneath another, iron-red egg. They had been joking all morning that these eggs were made to be presented together. The third, which still sat in its case between Rhyolite's massive front legs, was copper colored. Even as hatchlings, the dragons would likely look as though they were covered in armor, rather than gemstones. Moreover, there was a certain amount of symbolism to the grouping of these eggs. Only one, the iron-red egg, was left from the Vault of Souls. It was the last of the old order; the last egg enchanted by the Riders before the fall. The other two had both been gifted to the new order of Dragon Riders. One was by a pair of bonded dragons, the other born of a pairing of wild dragons. There was something fitting in that, Thane thought.

With potential war looming on the horizon, Eragon had decided that they couldn't afford to have the eggs sitting, unused, in Farthen Dûr. Though the ranks of the Dragon Riders had swollen to 28 pairs, they were still barely a shadow of their former might. As such, Rok had once again been sent out with the eggs to resume his rounds. However, the schedule he operated on was completely randomized. Cities would now receive less than 24 hours notice before his arrival in an effort to ensure the safety of the eggs. Also, the nearest Rider outpost was now obligated to supply him with an escort and assistant in his task. Thane had met him the previous evening and accompanied him to their latest destination: Bullridge. It was always a joyous occasion in the Dragon Riders when a new member joined the fold, but Thane couldn't help but hope that a new Rider would be chosen today, during his shift as Rok's companion.

Somehow, he sensed that this would be his last "simple" assignment for quite some time. Reports indicated that the Bogurk were still moving toward the border, although at a somewhat slower rate than before. Whether this was due to an increased resistance among the remaining free cities in Golrazi, or because the Bogurk simply weren't pushing forward as quickly as before was still unclear. The final few cities that stood between the Bogurk line and the Golrazi border with Alagaësia had apparently come to the realization that their government was not going to rescue them. There were no high-ranking noble families residing in any of the cities or towns, nor did they have any particular strategic or commercial value. Though the fishing villages supplied much of the country with seafood, they were not indispensable. The government's few resources were currently being expended ensuring that he Bogurk didn't penetrate further inland toward their larger and more prosperous cities.

The problem was that the Bogurk weren't the only people eyeing those cities. Whispers had started to come out of the capitol that the imperial army was being mobilized. In spite of his training with the Riders, Thane couldn't help but see the logic in the move, if it were actually happening. Undefended cities of terrified civilians would be not only easy to conquer, but easy to occupy. The people would naturally gravitate to whomever offered them protection, and the Alagaësian army could do just that. Naturally, Eragon was completely averse to the idea. He found the idea of preying on the weakened Golrazi government unconscionable. However, the topic had was one that had aroused a great deal of interest and discussion among the rest of the corps.

Some agreed with Eragon. Alagaësia was a large country that already had plenty of unused space, they argued. There was no need to add to its territory. Others argued that, if the Alagaësian army didn't protect the people in the border towns, they would fall easy prey to the Bogurk. Still others pointed to minor skirmishes between the races, particularly the urgals and humans, and reasoned that the extra space gained in such a conquest would mean more distance between those who couldn't get along in close proximity. Thane wasn't entirely sure into which camp he fell. On one hand, it did bother him that the government of Golraz had completely abandoned these cities to the invaders. The civilians deserved to be protected. However, he was also aware that the crown's motives for seizing the cities might not be quite so altruistic. No ruler since long before Queen Nasuada's time had actually expanded the borders of the country. To do so would secure a spot in the ranks of the great rulers. It was the sort of opportunity that monarchs dreamed of.

"Oy! If you're done daydreaming, we have to fix the plaques to the dais." Rok's sharp tone cut through Thane's thoughts like a shard of glass. The young man jumped at the sound, sheepishly looking over at the dwarf. The stocky man was staring pointedly at him, having just finished placing the final, copper-colored egg on its cushion.

"Oh, yes. Sorry Rok."

"Sorry indeed. Enjoy your youthful daydreams while they last, Thane. Pretty soon you'll find yourself stuck in the mundane thrall of reality." Reaching into his pocket, Rok withdrew a small parcel wrapped in silk. Quickly stripping away the outer layers, he laid the three, metal plates out on the dais. Each of them had been colored to match the egg with which they were paired. It had become the tradition of the new order of Dragon Riders to list the sire and dam of each egg on a metal plate and affix it beneath the egg during the selection process. Once an egg hatched, the name given to the new dragon would be added to the plate and given to the new rider. The tradition had begun after Thane and Evaríncel had been paired, but plates had been retroactively made for all bonded dragons and riders. The small piece of white metal now sat in a place of honor in Thane's room back at Sunvarda.

Moving to help the dwarf, Thane bend down before the steel-blue egg, which had been set on the far left. This particular egg held a special place in the hearts of all the Dragon Riders as it was the first egg laid after the Rider War; the first egg laid in over a century. Thane couldn't help but smile as he studied the inscription.

**Sired by: Fírnen**  
**Out of: Saphira**

The leaders of the corps always waited eagerly for the results of any Presentation Ceremony. However, Thane couldn't help but suspect that Eragon, Saphira, Arya, and Fírnen were all waiting somewhat more anxiously than they normally would. Placing his hand over the plaque, Thane muttered a quick spell under his breath to attach the metal plate to the dais. To his right, Rok was doing the same with the copper colored egg. It had been gifted to the Riders by a pair of wild dragons. Thalia, the mother, was a young female that Thane had never actually seen, only heard about. She was rumored to be particularly fierce and difficult to deal with. The sire, golden Soluskul, was well-regarded by the Dragon Riders.

The iron-red egg was the last of those taken from the Vault of Souls. Sired by the white dragon Umaroth, who was bonded to Vrael, the last leader of the Dragon Riders, this egg had made its rounds twice before, visiting almost every major city in the country. At each ceremony, it had sat stoically, refusing to hatch. Thane had noticed that Rok always lavished a little extra attention on that particular egg. It was understandable. Waiting so long in hibernation wasn't good for the hatchling inside. So even though he would have liked to see Saphria and Fírnen's egg hatch, Thane couldn't help but hope that the iron-red would be the one to choose its rider today.

Straightening up and surveying their handiwork, Rok nodded several times. "I think we're just about ready here. Why don't you go and alert the guards? Tell them to start letting people in, but make sure they stay in the designated areas. We don't want any trouble in the lines."

"Does that happen often?" Evaríncel asked, cocking his head curiously.

"Not often." Rok admitted, "But once you've seen it happen two or three times, that's enough for an entire lifetime. Sure, we can stop a stampede of people. We have dragons, after all. But having Rhyolite chase people away tends to undermine our helpful, friendly persona."

Thane's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Friendly? You?"

"I happen to be very friendly." The dwarf shot back, looking affronted. "I just don't tolerate incompetence very well."

"Or foolishness." Rhyolite put in innocently. "Or ignorance. Or laziness. Or"

Rok cut across him, glaring up at his partner. "Thank you Rhyo, that's quite enough." The orange dragon inclined his head, a glimmer of amusement in his dinner-plate sized eyes.

Ducking away to hide his smile, Thane quickly made his way toward the front of the compound. The courtyard they were set up in was secluded and quiet, a perfect place for the ceremony. It was on the western edge of the palace inhabited by the lord of the city, and thus had its own entrance out into the city. However, due to structure of the palace, the entrance was not visible from the courtyard, but could only be reached by rounding a corner and following a long, arched hallway to the outer wall. A series of ropes and poles had been erected to direct people to the place where the Presentation Ceremony would take place, and to ensure that the line didn't stray to where it wasn't supposed to be. Guards would be posted at intervals to ensure that no conflicts broke out among the waiting crowd.

Pausing just out of sight, Thane took a moment to straighten his clothing and brush off a few specks of dust and blades of grass that had somehow found their way onto his garments. Squaring his shoulders, he turned the corner and strode down the hallway, toward the opening to the city. As he studied the scene in front of him, he loosed a low, surprised whistle. Beyond the locked gate, a massive queue of people stretched as far as he could see. The line extended down the road before curving around a corner and out of sight. The people nearest him had looked up expectantly at his approach. Several of the children had paused, mid-conversation, to gape at him. He watched a young boy nudge the child next to him and point, as unobtrusively as was possible for a ten-year-old, to the sword belted at Thane's hip.

_Word travels fast. _

In his mind, Evaríncel snorted. "Would you have missed this opportunity?"

_No, I wouldn't have. _

The two guards that had been stationed at the entrance to the garden turned as he approached them and saluted crisply. The older of the two, who looked to be in his late 30s, cocked his head slightly. "Are we ready?"

Thane shook his head. "Almost. You can go ahead and open the gate though. Get them all settled into the aisles. We'll start in about ten minutes."

The man nodded. "And what about Lord Nelson and Lady Carice? Shall we get them seated as well?"

Groaning inwardly, Thane kept his face carefully neutral. Lord Nelson was the ruler of Bullridge and had greeted them upon their arrival the previous night. He had seemed a nice enough man, but he had insisted that his children be the firsts to be presented to the eggs. The eldest was fourteen and had already been presented to other eggs at least twice, but his father was determined that he should be presented every time a new egg was introduced. There was no rule against it, and Thane knew that many children were presented to the eggs numerous times, but what little he knew of the child galled him.

The boy, Dane, was quite similar to many noble children Thane had known in his childhood at Illirea. They were aware that they could demand things from others and expect to have their words heeded. In retrospect, it wasn't really the children's fault. Any child raised to assume that they could always get their way was bound to be a bit arrogant. If anything, Thane had learned to place the blame firmly on the heads of the parents for such behavior. Still, the knowledge that the boy expected to be placed in front of these people, some of whom had been waiting for hours outside the gate, left a bitter taste in Thane's mouth.

Still, he nodded. "Yes, please inform the Lord and Lady." When they had acknowledged his words, Thane quickly withdrew to where Rok was meticulously wiping each of the eggs with a silken cloth.

"Ten minutes" He said to no one in particular.

Rok grunted, his brow furrowed as he scrubbed at a spot on the iron-red egg. After a few seconds, he spoke. "I take it Lord Nelson has been informed?"

Thane nodded. "I figure we can let his children go first. After all, if the boy hasn't been picked yet, odds are he won't be now." After his next birthday, Dane would be too old to participate in the Presentation Ceremony, so Thane could understand his father's urgency. This was his son's last chance to be a Dragon Rider.

"Never try to guess which children the dragons will chose." Rok said, shaking his head. "The only thing I've learned in all these years ferrying the eggs is that we have no idea how the dragons select their riders. I've seen strong, strapping young boys passed over in favor of skinny beanpoles. I've seen some of the smartest young ladies I've ever met eschewed in favor of dullards. But," Here he raised a finger, "I will swear it on my honor that I've never seen a dragon pick wrong. Whatever we might think of the people they chose, the pairing always ends up right in the end."

"What about Jarnunvösk?" Evaríncel broke in. "She chose Galbatorix."

"That doesn't mean she chose incorrectly." Rhyolite spoke up. Shuffling his iridescent, orange wings, he blinked a massive eye at them all. "Galbatorix had many of the qualities that most would prize in a rider. He was strong in mind and body, and possessed of a great ability to learn and cultivate his power. However, we cannot see the future. Jarnunvösk could not have known that she would die. Nor could she have known the depths of madness her partner would sink to in the wake of her loss."

Adjusting the pillow beneath the copper egg, Thane looked up at the large dragon. "But, wasn't his rapid ascent into madness an indication that there was already some mental deficiency? Rocks don't crack out of nowhere. There's always a fracture to start the process, even if it's a hidden one."

Rhyolite turned his unblinking stare on the young human. "You assume that the fracture was there when Galbatorix was chosen. That might not have been the case. Can you honestly say that your mindset was the same when Evaríncel chose you as it is now? The acquisition of knowledge changes people."

Rok grinned up at his partner. "Every now and then you say something wise Rhyo."

The orange dragon huffed out a plume of smoke. "If only your unenlightened comments came as frequently." Turning his head, he sniffed, his muscles tensing as the first trickle of people began to file into the garden. They followed the prearranged path, forming a long, winding line that stretched almost to where the three eggs sat upon the table. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Evaríncel and I have to look imposing."

The two dragons moved to take up positions on either side of the dais, settling down with their wings tucked against their bodies. The few people who were already in the courtyard watched the pair with wide eyes. Though Dragon Riders were more common than they had been in the past, most people only saw the dragons close up once a year during the ceremony. And those who were bringing a child to be presented for the first time had likely never been this close to a living, breathing dragon. Of course, Thane and Rok were also receiving their fair share of awestruck looks. In spite of their campaign to make themselves less intimidating to the masses, most people still walked on eggshells around the Dragon Riders.

_I can't imagine why. _Thane commented silently to his partner. _Do you think it could have something to do with the magic or dragons? _

The white dragon shrugged almost imperceptibly. "Your guess is as good as mine." He paused, then asked, "Is that the kid?"

Thane turned to see five people emerging onto a balcony to one side of the courtyard. Lord Nelson and his wife, Lady Carice, were immaculately dressed. The lord of Bullridge was as broad-shouldered as any farm-hand. His massive chest and arms were every bit as capable of bailing hay or handling a massive plow horse as any of his subjects in the farming-based city. Thane suspected that feature might have been part of why he was so popular among the common people. Slim and willowy, Lady Carice was the polar opposite of her rugged husband. Her pale skin was a clear indication that she had never spent a day in the fields. Still, she had seem amicable enough when Thane and Rok had met with the family the night before.

At their side were their three children. Dane, the eldest, was bouncing and fidgeting next to his mother. The beginnings of puberty were already beginning to make themselves apparent in the lad's young body. Muscles were beginning to form on the shoulders he had inherited from his father. He moved with the slightly uncoordinated gait of a child whose body had grown a great deal in a very short time. At present, his red hair was defying the attempt his mother had clearly made to restrain it. Loose strands hung over the leather band that encircled his head and fell into the bright green eyes. In spite of his earlier trepidation about the child, Thane felt a sudden lurch of sympathy. He remembered the anticipation he had felt before his Presentation Ceremony all too well. To be a Dragon Rider had been his dream. He couldn't imagine the crushing disappointment he would have felt at being rejected not once, but multiple times by numerous different eggs.

Then, Thane's gaze was drawn to the young girl who stood just behind Dane. Her bright, red hair was cropped short with a single, long braid that hung down behind her left ear. Celeste Kealt was every bit as quiet as her brother was exuberant. She had barely spoken when addressed last night, instead sitting quietly beside her parents with downcast eyes. She was as shy a young lady as Thane had ever met, but there was something endearing about her. Today, she would be presented to the eggs for the first time. Both Thane and Rok had gotten the distinct impression that she was only being allowed to participate in the ceremony because she had requested to, not because her parents actually thought she'd be chosen. The young girl was holding tightly to her younger sister's hand as the family settled themselves into a row of seats that had been set out for them.

Rok's elbow dug into Thane's ribs and the young man grunted, turning look at the elder Rider. In a lowered tone, the dwarf growled, "I'm going to address them. Go get into position."

Nodding, Thane turned and strode to his spot to the left of the dais, in front of Evaríncel. Rok moved to the open space in front of the eggs and held up a hand, motioning for silence. When the low, excited murmur of voices had died away, he spoke.

"My Lord, my Lady, and good people of Bullridge, on behalf of the Dragon Riders, I welcome you to this Presentation Ceremony. So that there is no confusion, please allow me to review the rules under which all candidates are to be presented to the eggs. If a candidate is chosen by a dragon, then they immediately forfeit all lands, titles, and capitol that they might otherwise have inherited or received from their family. Said candidate will immediately enter the care of the Dragon Riders and will be transported to Du Weldenvarden to begin their training. Upon completion of that initial stage of training, the rider and dragon will then travel to Vrenbana, the home of the Riders, to continue their education. By presenting a child to the eggs, the parents of said child are implicitly agreeing to these terms."

Turning to face the Lord and Lady of the city, he continued, "Is it your wish to present your eldest child, Dane Kealt, and your second-eldest, Celeste Kealt, to the eggs?"

Rising to his feet, Lord Nelson inclined his head. "It is. Their mother and I accept all responsibility in plain sight and hearing of these witnesses. If either of our children is chosen, it shall be as you have declared."

He had barely finished speaking when Dane practically leapt from his chair and rushed down the stairs leading into the courtyard. His eyes were bright with excitement and his grin threatened to split his face in two. There was no hint of nervousness or doubt in his posture. Thane exchanged a quick glance with Rok, briefly wondered if he could be so confident after failing to get an egg to hatch. He quickly decided that it was highly unlikely. The boy approached the eggs, his eyes wide as he looked from one to the next. After a second's hesitation, he moved to the red egg on the far right.

He brazenly placed a hand on the polished surface. Nothing happened. Ten second passed. Then thirty seconds. Then a minute. Withdrawing his hand, Dane took a single step to the left, bringing himself parallel with the copper colored egg. Again, he reached out and touched the egg. This time, however, Thane was close enough for his enhanced hearing to pick up the barely audible words the boy was murmuring.

"Please, come on. I'd make a good Rider. I would. I would."

A pang of sadness washed over Thane as the seconds ticked by. How many times had he made that same argument to himself as a child? How many times had he whispered it into the darkness of his bedroom as he stared up at the dragon mosaic on his ceiling? Whatever else Dane might have been, he was still a child. To grow up knowing you could have almost anything you wanted, and yet be unable to have the thing you want most . . . _What a bitter pill to swallow at such a young age. _

Now, as the young man moved to the final egg, Thane could see tears beginning to well in the green eyes. Admittedly, the boy was making a heroic effort to keep them from falling, but now Thane could see the trembling of his fingers as he reached up toward the steel-blue egg. It was a difficult scene to watch. Though Thane turned his eyes away, he could still hear the boy's soft pleas growing ever fainter.

"I'd be a good Dragon Rider. I swear. I'd work hard. I'd do everything they told me. Please. Please hatch."

Five seconds. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds. Returning his gaze to the child, Thane watched the boy's shoulders slump. He had never imagined watching a Presentation Ceremony could be this hard.

_SQUEAK!_

* * *

And we're back! Apologies for the long absence. I'm going to try to get back to posting more regularly, but I have two wonderful, new bundles of joy that I'm taking care of, so don't be surprised if the posts are a bit more sporadic for a bit. Still, with luck, there won't be another long break like that one until after this book is finished. Hope everyone is well. As always, read and review if you're so inclined! Thanks everyone!


	76. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

Cold. The breath left Keres' lungs in one, sharp gasp as the icy flow of water gushed over her. As it turned out, the sheet of water was barely a foot deep, but traversing that short distance still left the young woman drenched and shivering. It took a few seconds for Keres to recompose herself and finally take stock of her surroundings. In spite of the fact that her werelight hadn't made it through the deluge with her, she stood in only semi-darkness. The large cavern in which she now found herself was lit by a faint, silvery glow that seemed to come from nowhere at all. She craned her neck, peering up toward the shadowy ceiling that must have been a half-mile above her. On the whole, Keres was unsure what she had been expecting. Somehow, she felt that this empty space was a bit of a letdown in light of everything she had experienced thus far.

She instinctively began to reach for her magic to dry herself, but reason caught up with her and she stayed her hand. _Wasteful. _The word was spoken in both her and Eragon's voices. No sense in using magic when she had no idea where she was or what properties this place possessed. Ordinary as it might seem, it would be foolish to expose herself to any unnecessary danger by casting a spell. The rush of water behind her echoed in the empty space, magnified a hundred fold into a steady roar that dulled her senses. She moved forward slowly, her right hand wrapped around the hilt of Skraván, ready to draw it forth at the slightest hint of danger.

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. With each step, she cast her mind around her, searching for any traps or hidden spells, but there was none. The space seemed utterly empty. Well, not utterly. As her eyes adjusted, he could just make out a circle of darkness in the center of the cavern. _A pit?_ The thought made her stomach clench painfully. Then she relaxed. As the initial surge of unease faded, she noted the faint motion occurring at the edge of the shadow. _A pool. _Sure enough, as she peered into the darkness, she saw a small fountain of bubbles in the very center of the mass. Ripples moved outward from the point, causing the edges of the pool to lap gently at the stone bank.

Keres blinked, puzzled. _How does this cavern keep from flooding? There's nowhere for the water to go except back out into the tunnel. _Then she snorted. _The tunnel that's guarded by a waterfall to nowhere from nowhere. Magic. Right. _Tentatively, she lowered the barriers around her mind and began to cast about the cavern. Her wards were still active, she had kept a close eye on them to ensure that none began drawing on her magic stores, even slightly, without her knowledge. Even so, she took great care to examine every foot of space she extended her consciousness into. There was no guarantee that the wards she would have would protect her in here. After all, nothing seemed to make sense in here anyway.

She found herself on the edge of the pool and, half-eagerly, half-nervously, peered down into it. To her relief, she found her reflection staring back at her. _Well at least this pool seems to be obeying the basic laws of water. _She thought sarcastically. Casting another glance around the empty space, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. This pool was the only thing in the cavern with her. The path had lead her here and there had to have been a reason for that. So there was really only one thing to do.

Even as she drew her sword, she could hear the myriad of protests that Eragon, Saphira, and Vikonyx would have raised. Keres, herself, could think of several reasons why what she was about to do was a terrible idea. But there was nowhere else to go. She had to go forward here. But she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. Tensing every muscle in her body, she gripped Skraván until her knuckles turned white. Ever so slowly, she reached out, touching the tip of her blade to the surface of water.

A blaze of light startled her and she leapt backward, holding the sword out before her as she instinctively turned her head away. Her eyelids barely dimmed the glow and, for the most part, only served to tint it red. The light was blinding, but she forced herself to look. Several columns of white lines had erupted upward from the pool in several places. From there they stretched out like branches of some vast tree, reaching in all different directions. A various intervals, the tendrils melded to form enclosed shapes. As she watched, images began to flicker to life in the empty space. And still the light continued to stretch upward, splitting off to form even more individual branches, only to splinter further as they climbed higher. And the things she saw . . .

There were memories that she could recall, played out as if she were watching them from outside her body: her first visit to Du Weldenvarden, the boat ride to Vrenbana, the first time she had seen Vikonyx breathe fire. There were long days of training with Eragon and night flights with Vikonyx. There were even memories that she thought she had forgotten. In one image, she picked herbs in the forest with her mother. It had been so hot that day, and Keres could see sweat dripping off her tiny hands. In another, she stared jealously at a group of dwarf children playing in a meadow, wishing that she had someone to play with. She had been so young then. But there were also many images that she had no memory of. Places, people, and things that she was quite certain she had never encountered before. The crumbling husk of a massive building, a spire of rock that rose to pierce the sky, a set of shimmering gray steps that descended hundreds of feet into darkness, image after image flashed before her and she had no idea where or what they were. And then there was her . . .

Time after time she saw herself in the pictures. Some showed her as she had been or as she was, but others showed something else. One picture showed a young Keres moved with a heavy limp born of a badly twisted left leg. A second showed an adult Keres with short-cropped hair and scarred forearms. She saw herself at every stage of life, child, teenager, adult, and it seemed that the state of her body varied from frame to frame.

One branch that stretched longer than the others caught her attention. Of all the images, the person she saw in those scenes intrigued her the most. It was both Keres, and not Keres. The face was the same, excepting a long, thin scar that stretched from her hairline, down across her nose, below her left eye, and to the bottom of her chin. The vast majority of these images showed her in unfamiliar, silver armor that gleamed with a strange, luminescent sheen. But it was the eyes that held her gaze. The white orbs were empty, devoid of warmth or compassion, and burned with a light that seemed to come from somewhere deep behind them. Even looking at the scene, Keres shifted her grip on Skraván. That woman was dangerous.

Tearing her eyes away, Keres turned her attention to studying the rest of the branches of light. There had to be some sort of rhyme and reason to the pictures. In places, some opposing branches intersected before ultimately diverging again. Voices emanated from the various images, overlapping and melding into a chaotic chorus of disparate parts. Most unnerving of all were the images that lay at the very ends of the branches, where the light had ceased to exist. Keres could only bear to look at them for a few seconds before her stomach began to turn. Death glowed out of them; death, in a hundred different forms. In some scenes her body bore bloody gashed or lacked limbs. In others, her skin showed the waxy hue of sickness or boasted growths or rashes that told of some horrific illness. _What the hell? What the hell is this?_

"By order of Eragon Shadeslayer, leader of the Dragon Riders, you are under arrest." The familiar voice caught her attention and Keres spun in a circle, looking for the origin. She finally located it and rushed to stand beneath the image that hung high over her head. There she was, the Keres in the bright armor, a polished helm on her head and a crystalline, purple sword in her hand. She stood on a flat stretch of rock, her shoulders squared and a faint smirk on her face. Above her, an emerald dragon circled, a Rider on its back.

There was something in the way that the armored Keres was standing that made the real Keres nervous. It was the stance of a person who was supremely confident. There were precious few people who could stand in the presence of a dragon and Rider and maintain that air. But Arya had spent years layering wards around herself and Fírnen. Many of them were so complex that even though Keres knew their wording, she couldn't understand what they did or how they functioned. But that stance . . . Keres recognized it. It was the stance she took when she sparred with someone she considered to be an inferior swordswoman. It was the stance she had seen Eragon take when meeting with visiting diplomats. It was the stance of someone who knew they were about to win.

Fírnen swooped down, belching a gout of green flame down on the motionless figure. The armored Keres stood firm as the inferno poured down on her from above. A vortex of flame engulfed her, swirling and roaring nearly as loud as the beast who produced it. From the saddle, Arya rained down a hail of crackling green energy orbs. It was a potent a barrage as any Keres had ever seen. Yet, when the blaze cleared, still the figure remained upright. The armor was unblemished and the face unscathed. And then Keres saw it.

The armored woman smiled a horribly familiar half-smile. As the emerald dragon dove again, the purple blade came up, its wicked point aimed directly at the oncoming dragon. The lips moved so swiftly that even the real Keres couldn't make out what was said. A ripple seemed to pass along the edges of the sword, accompanied by a faint humming sound. At first, Keres was only aware of a shimmering in the air, like a heat mirage. Then Fírnen screamed. Blood spilled forth from a massive gash that opened along his left side. From shoulder to flank, the scaled skin gaped open like a lipless mouth. So massive was the wound that the wing was torn from the body and spun pathetically to earth like a leaf dropped from a tree. The massive dragon plummeted toward the ground like a comet, trailing a pennant of blood in his wake. The armored woman took aim again.

"NO!" Keres lunged forward, Skraván drawing back to deliver a vicious, sweeping slash. But she had barely drawn back the sword when it happened. A single, jagged line appeared across the surface of the scene, like a crack across a mirror. The deformity spread its tendrils outward until, with the sound of shattering glass, the image fragmented. Immediately, numerous others, connected to the now-broken image, went dark and splintered. Those sections winked out of existence, leaving the others untouched behind them.

"Disappointing" The word sounded from directly behind her and Keres stiffened. She had been alone, she was certain of it. Now her back was exposed to this unknown newcomer. Not wanting to make any sudden moves that might provoke an attack, she slowly returned to a more erect posture, arching her neck, and turning her head slightly until she could just see, out of the corner of her eye, the individual who had spoken. Her eyes widened. A long braid of mingled white, black, and crimson, hung down the woman's back. The silver armor was so polished that, even here in the dimness, it emitted a silvery sheen. "If I was not to be, I would have at least hoped for a better replacement."

A small smile curved Keres' mouth. The voice was unmistakable. "I'd say sorry, but I'm not certain I really am."

"You're not." Came the reply.

Keres chuckled. "I've been called many things in my life. Disappointing, however, is one of the least common. Just how, pray tell, have I managed to disappoint you?"

The other woman snorted. "We should have been conquerors. It's what we were made for. It's what we are."

"No. She might have made us this way, but what we are . . . we decide that."

"Pretty words. But you cannot deny your own nature. The longing for battle, for conflict, is never far from you. I know this." Keres' mouth tightened. Even if she attempted to lie, it wouldn't work. This woman would know. This woman knew everything. But the armored woman wasn't finished speaking. "We were bred and cultivated for war. No amount of high-minded ideals or flowery rhetoric can change that."

"You're right." Keres said softly. Lifting her hand, she stared down at it, flexing her fingers slowly, as if viewing them for the first time. "The craving for battle is always there, in the back of my mind. I want to fight. I want combat. I want to test myself against a worthy opponent. Some days, it eats at my thoughts, eroding my will until I fear it will drive me mad. But I do not know if I love war. I have never experienced one, and from what I've read, they are horrid things."

"But there you are mistaken." Came the firm, definite response. The woman was staring at her with shadowed eyes. "You have experienced war. Everyone has. The world is always at war. Perhaps not a big war, like the one Eragon and Arya fought, but, at all times, there are hundreds of small wars being waged. Humans wage war on nature in a battle for dominance. Elves wage war against the unknown as they struggle to comprehend all things. Those who fear magic wage war against those who use magic. Men wage wars against men, elves against elves, dwarves against dwarves, and, at every turn, death wages war on the living. These things I know, for I have seen them."

"And just who are you?" The question needed to be asked, even though Keres felt certain that she already knew the answer.

A derisive snort answered her words. "I'm the Keres our mother saw here, the vision that she was striving to make a reality. I'm the Keres who was supposed to exist." There was a soft chink of armor as the woman shifted. "And now, I'm nothing but a shadow of a vision, a reflection of something that will never be."

"Then . . . everything that I've seen here . . ."

"Possibilities: some that will never be, and some that remain viable."

Keres' eyes narrowed. "If that's true, then which path did you walk?"

"I walked the path of a predator. Mother wanted me, us, to rule. She wanted the kingdom brought to its knees and subjugated to my will. She assumed that once I conquered, she could pull the strings from behind the scenes." The words were filled with such distaste that Keres couldn't help but agree. "It appears that mother did not account for my being stronger than her. Spells of compulsion only work if your will is stronger than the one upon whom the spell is placed. The moment my will became stronger, I was free to do as I wished."

"And what was it that you wished?" Keres hadn't meant the words to be so challenging.

"I had no designs on ruling." Came the reply. "A crown is just a new kind of cage. The rules might be different for a ruler, but there are still rules to be followed. I prefer to make my own path, regardless of who, or what, attempts to stop me, including mother."

Keres shook her head. "The Sorceress was foolish to pin her hopes on a prophetic vision. Trying to force them to come true usually causes them to backfire."

"I thought much the same. I even told her so, in my own timeline. But that was after I had freed myself. Before that, I had no knowledge of what she had seen. Mother allowed me to grow and learn. She set challenges for me and helped me to hone my skills. She spent years, decades, making me one of the strongest magic users who ever lived." The armored woman was speaking casually. The shoulders lifted in a shrug. "In her haste to create the perfect weapon, she failed to remember that a weapon can be turned on anyone. Is there anything sadder than to make a weapon to protect yourself, only to have it turned on you?"

"I can think of a few things."

"Such as?"

"Having that weapon turned on your friends or family?"

The woman snorted in disgust. "Unbelievable. The Riders turned us into a damn bleeding-heart pacifist."

"You know that's not true."

"Even so, to think we'd wind up like this . . . it's nauseating."

A grin tugged at the corner of Keres' mouth. "Well, we did end up getting a dragon."

"Yeah, there is that. I guess you didn't end up completely useless." The words had a faint chuckle to them that took some of the edge off. "Truth be told, I always kind of wanted to ride a dragon." There was pause, then she continued. "Just don't waste what you were given. If I'm doomed to non-existence, then I'd prefer it to be in favor of a superior version of me."

Keres eyes narrowed fractionally. "If you doubt that I'm superior, we could always fight it out right here."

"Child, do you actually think you could touch me with that blade?"

"I'd give it a good go."

This time the laugh was full throated. "You're every bit as ignorant as I feared. I don't exist. All of this, none of it exists. You could no more harm me than I could harm you." Keres heard the rasp of steel on steel and her entire body tensed. "But you intrigue me, Keres White-Eyes. I will be watching your journey with great interest. Do try not to disappoint me any further than you already have." The tip of the iridescent purple blade appeared at the very edge of Keres vision, the edge leveled at her neck. "For now, however, I think it's time for you to wake up." The blade blurred, forming a wicked arch that was upon her before she could even react. There was no pain, only a sudden absence of sound as the world went black.


	77. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

Thane's head snapped up. _Squeak. Squeak. SQUEAK! _The insistent sound cut through the silence that had fallen over the courtyard. The steel-blue egg began to wobble. A crack appeared at the very top. The young boy was staring, transfixed. His green eyes were wide and he looked as though he were on the verge of fainting. For the next ten minutes, everyone looked on quietly as more and more cracked appeared in the stone-like surface of the egg. Finally, with one last, defiant shriek, the egg split asunder and a small, steel-blue dragon toppled out.

_Well, that was unexpected. _

Evaríncel snorted. "Don't they always say, 'Don't count your dragons before they're hatched'?"

_Um_ Thane had to fight back a smile. _No, no they don't. I've never heard anyone say that. It's usually about chickens. _

"Who in their right mind would want chicken eggs over dragon eggs?" The white dragon cocked his head, drawing in a long breath. "It's a male. Good looking little one, too."

_Did we expect any different?_

"Of course not." In spite of his calm tone, Thane could feel his partner's excitement. Having an egg hatch was a rare event. Oftentimes, eggs made several rounds through the kingdom before finally finding the one destined to be their rider.

At the dias, Dane finally appeared to have recovered some semblance of lucidity. He blinked several times, a smile beginning to break over his face. The dragon shook itself, lifting an elegantly sculpted head to study the young man. With dreamlike slowness, the red-headed boy stretched out his right hand toward the small creature. There was a faint flaring of wings, but the steel-blue hatchling stretched out its long neck, moving forward to meet the touch.

_I think he's forgotten about the Gedwëy Ignasia. _A moment later, Dane yelped, actually falling backward down the short flight of stairs. _Yep. He forgot. _

The boy stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers as he gazed at the shimmering mark that had appeared on his palm. Thane cast a quick glance over at the boy's parents. Lord Nelson Kealt looked as proud as Thane could ever remember seeing a man looked. The father was actually swelling with pride, a broad grin on his face. Beside him, Lady Carice's reaction was somewhat more subdued. She was still smiling proudly, but Thane could detect a hint of sadness in her eyes. That was always the sobering part of having a child be selected by a dragon. Certainly, it was the beginning of a great, new opportunity, but it also meant the end of so many others. It meant another family lost a son or daughter. In this case, the Lord lost an heir. It meant that a family had to give up their right to raise their child. It was a rather steep price, Thane reflected.

Rok stepped forward. "Dane Kealt, you have been chosen to become a Dragon Rider. In accordance with our laws and customs, you forfeit all claim to any titles, lands, or positions that you once held. Rider Thane will accompany you and your family until the ceremony has ended. Any questions that you or your parents have should be directed to him. Once your sister has been tested, you will be free to leave."

It had been Eragon who had decided that the child should be given a few hours to say goodbye to their family. Both the parents and the new recruit often had numerous questions about the situation. In particular, the parents often wanted to be assured that their child would be well cared for. Thane had quite been quite excited at the prospect of being able to oversee this part of the process. But "had" was the key word. The previous night, Rok had reminded him that there were several, less pleasant pieces of information that he would have to impart.

How long Dragon Riders lived was always difficult for people to grasp if they weren't already aware of it. Thane quite understood; potentially endless life was a daunting prospect. He had certainly never heard that before, though his parents obviously had. As a boy, he had never considered how it was that the same Eragon and Arya who defeated them empire could still be leading the Dragon Riders. The knowledge that he would likely outlive his entire family had been a severe blow. Initially, he had been terrified that he would be left alone, but the years had reassured him that this would not be the case. Now, he had to try and pass on that reassurance to the young Dragon Rider and his parents. He had spent hours last night questioning Rok about the process and had felt confident that he could do the job. Now, suddenly, he felt nervous.

Dane stretched out his arm again, this time somewhat more tentatively. The dragon quickly scrambled up onto his shoulder. One razor-sharp talon quickly pierced a hole in the soft fabric of the boy's shirt, but he barely seemed to notice. Flexing its tail and wings for balance, the small creature swayed contently as it moved closer to its rider's face. There it perched, looking around curiously at this world of new sights and sounds. The boy grinned at it, still looking somewhat awestruck. Thane could relate. He had been completely blown away when Evaríncel had hatched for him. He watched as Dane returned to his parents, grinning up at them as they crowded forward to peer at the small creature he held. Little Patrice stood on tiptoe as he stooped to bring the dragon closer to her level.

In the meantime, Celeste Kealt moved toward the dais. In stark contrast to her brother, she look absolutely petrified. Her wide eyes lingered fearfully on the two massive dragons before lowering to the two remaining eggs. Her fists were clenched on her beautiful, purple dress. A quick glance back toward where the Lord and Lady sat told Thane that though they were watching their daughter, the majority of their attention was still focused on their son. Lady Carice, in particular, was wearing an expression akin to relief.

_It must be difficult to watch this as a parent. On one hand, you want your child's dreams to come true. On the other, if they do, you lose your son or daughter. What do you pray for in that situation?_

"I dare say that most parents would prefer to keep their children. You can replace the dream, at least to an extent. Replacing children is impossible."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Thane raised an eyebrow. _How would you know that? You don't have any children. _

"And that very fact allowed me to examine the situation without being sidetracked by the emotions of it. That children are irreplaceable is logical. I simply figure it would be like me trying to replace you or you trying to replace me. I can't imagine being able to; not after I've known you for this long."

A gust of wind ruffled Thane's hair, tickling his forehead and drawing his attention back to the present. Celeste had reached the bottom of the stairs. She shuffled up to the steps, her arms folded across her chest. Her green eyes were wide with fright as she stared up at the two dragons that flanked the table, and at the riders who stood before them. Thane couldn't help but smile to himself. _If either of you breaths too hard, you might knock her over. _

"More likely she'd have a heart attack, poor thing." Came the response from his partner.

Thane had to admit, when the day began, he'd hoped that this would be the child who was chosen. From all reports, Celeste was quiet, intelligent, and well-mannered. She'd seemed like the perfect candidate. Still, as the second-oldest child, she would make a good ruler for Bullridge. When she glanced at him, he smiled encouragingly. She made what might have been an attempt to smile back, but only managed a grimace. She was so small that, even when she reached the top of the steps, her shoulders barely cleared the top of the dais.

With a trembling hand, she reached up, tentatively stretching her fingers toward the copper egg. Before they had even made contact with the surface, a resounding squeak echoed from the table. The girl started so badly she nearly toppled back down the small flight of steps. Evaríncel's head snapped around to regard the two eggs. For a moment, Thane searched for the source of the sound. Then he saw the red egg began to rock slightly.

_No . . ._ Thane could only stare in wide eyed amazement.

The egg began to rock more frantically. Had it not sat on its cushion, it would have likely toppled off the platform and onto the stairs. There was a sharp crack and the entire egg split from top of bottom. The two halves parted, leaving the contents sitting on the cushion. The iron-red dragon was wriggling with excitement, flexing each of its limbs along with the still-wet wings and muscular tail. It was staring eagerly at the young girl, still squeaking excitedly.

Thane looked over at Rok. The dwarf Rider looked every bit as surprised as Thane felt. Reaching out with his mind, Thane contacted him. _Have we ever had two eggs hatch in one ceremony? _

The response was sharp. "One ceremony? We've never even had two eggs hatch in one week! Let alone for two siblings."

_Even the old order? _

This time his answer was longer in coming. Thane saw a flicker of uncertainty cross the bearded face. "Now that . . . I'm not sure. I certainly don't think that we've ever had two eggs hatch in one ceremony. But I remember something about two sisters being selected. Still, if I'm not mistaken, they were chosen nearly four years apart."

Thane couldn't help taking a quick look at the girl's parents. Dane, who had paused in his delighted inspection of his dragon to watch his sister, looked utterly delighted. Thane couldn't remember ever seeing anyone look so pleased. Lord Nelson and Lady Carice, on the other hand, were looking stunned. Thane saw tears begin to well up in the woman's eyes before she carefully concealed her expression, plastering a semblance of a smile on her face.

_Poor thing . . . two in one day. _

"The youngest will never get the chance to participate in this ceremony." Evaríncel said softly. "No way they'll risk losing her too."

_Still, two new Riders Evaríncel! Two of them!_

"I know!" Came the response. The white dragon drew in a long breath, tasting the air. "This one is female. And she's the last of the Vault Eggs. Eragon will be thrilled."

Much to Thane's surprise, far from looking terrified, Celeste looked awestruck. The young girl stared at the red dragon paced toward her, still squeaking excitedly. Its eyes were locked on her. As they watched, the small creature made a clumsy leap toward her off the edge of the dais. Thane had already taken a step forward before he stopped himself. Celeste had lunged and caught the dragon mid-fall. It now sat in her arms, humming contentedly as it curled its tail around the young girl's wrist.

"I've never seen a hatchling act like that." Evaríncel commented.

Thane shrugged. _We've also never seen a dragon spend that long in an egg. I can't really blame her for being excited to finally meet her Rider. Imagine how long she had to wait in there._

"Thane!" The exclamation was so sharp that Thane actually jumped. He looked over at Rok, but was surprised to see that the dwarf wasn't looking at him. "Thane" It was Rok's voice, but this time he sounded vaguely amused. "Contacting you inside your head doesn't work nearly so well when you make it obvious that I'm talking to you."

Thane blinked, then grinned sheepishly, averting his eyes. _Well, the good news is that no one else knows that we can communicate inside our heads. _

"True, you just look like a massive idiot since you started with no visible cause." Came the reply. Rok cast a brief, sidelong glance at the younger Dragon Rider. "Instead of gawking, you need to go and greet Lord and Lady Kealt. They're probably in shock right now, so it won't do to look like we're in unknown territory as well."

_But we are. _

"Not the point. We have to always look completely comfortable and in control of the situation. It's part of our mystique. Now, go and do your job."

_But what do I say? I didn't prepare for them losing two children today. _

"That's alright. Neither did they."

_You're not really helping at all, you know. _

"What do you want me to say Thane? I've never seen this either. But maybe that's for the best. Anything we prepared for today would sound rehearsed in light of this. Just speak honestly, without letting on how completely surprised we are of course. That will be the best thing you can do for those parents over there." Thane had already taken a few strides over toward where Celeste was returning to her parents when Rok contacted him again. "And Thane . . . be compassionate. This won't be an easy day for them."

_Why Rok, compassion? I'd have thought you never heard such a word. _The only response was a taciturn silence. Thane sighed to himself, climbing another flight of stairs to reach the low balcony where the Lord and Lady sat. Dane was now animatedly comparing their dragons while Celeste was looking anxiously toward her parents. Lady Celeste was doing her best to keep from crying, but Thane could see the sorrow in every line of her body. Lord Nelson was putting on a somewhat better show, thunderously congratulating his children and grinning widely. But the grin was a little too jubilant to be believable.

As Thane approached, both rulers turned to him, their children quickly following suit as they noticed the newcomer. Thane bowed politely. "My lord, my lady, my name is Thane. I'm here to accompany Dane and Carice, as well as their dragons."

Lord Nelson nodded. "I know who you are Thane Fiachreson. My wife and I visited the capitol just after I took over rule of Bullridge. You and your brother would have only been 2 or 3 then." He extended a hand, which thane shook. "It's good to see you again."

Thane inclined his head. "Thank you sir. You'll have at least a few more hours with Dane and Celeste. For security reasons, we will have to take them to our quarters to spend the night. Until that time, I will accompany and guard them. In the meantime, I answer any questions that you or your children might have."

Before the man could even open his mouth, Dane broke in excitedly. "So where are we going in Du Weldenvarden? When do we get to visit Vrenbana? Is it true that Saphira is as big as a mountain? When will the dragons be old enough to fly or breathe fire?" The deluge of questions caught Thane slightly off guard and he blinked stupidly for a few seconds before managing to gather himself.

"Well," he said with a wry grin, "where should I begin?"

#

The sun had already gone down when Thane finally led the children from the castle. Dane's dragon was sleeping peacefully in his arms while Celeste's was sitting on her shoulder, carefully observing its surroundings. Both of them carried a backpack stuffed full of personal belongings. There were several sets of clothes as well as a few personal effects from either of them. Dane's included several knives and he had a sword belted at his hip. Celeste's contained a sketchpad and an extensive pack of colored paints and drawing utensils. The young girl still had tears running down her face and even the normally effusive Dane was subdued. The goodbye with their parents had been quite tearful, despite the fact that Thane had assured them all that the Lord and Lady could come visit before the Dragon Riders departed late the following morning.

After spending nearly three hours answering questions about the Dragon Riders and the accommodations which would be made for the two children, Thane had withdrawn to a corner so that the family could have some privacy. Two hours later, Rok had contacted him to say that no one else had been chosen and he was taking the remaining egg back to their quarters, where Evaríncel and Rhyolite would be tasked with guarding it. The children had then been allowed to go and pack a bag with their belongings, and then have one final meal with their parents. Celeste had repeatedly asked if they could spend one more night with their parents, and each time he had been forced to decline weighed heavier on his heart. It was simply Dragon Rider policy. Young dragons were extremely vulnerable. Just because only one hatchling had ever been successfully stolen didn't stop certain breeds of criminal from trying. Though admittedly, when Galbatorix was the one individual to ever steal a baby dragon, the odds of anyone else being able to do it were not high.

As they entered the building where Thane and Rok were staying, they found the latter sitting at a table, hunched over a sheaf of parchments. The dwarf was muttering softly to himself as he made notes on each successive piece of paper. However, as Thane hailed him, he quickly folded up the papers and put them away.

"Everything in order then?" He asked.

Thane nodded. "Dane and Celeste are packed and ready to go. Children, you've already sort-of met him, but this is Rok, one of our senior Riders."

The dwarf slid down from his stool and approached, offering a hand to each of them. "Congratulations. Especially you Dane, I know how long you've wanted this." As the handshakes ended, he pulled out a well-used ledger and looked expectantly at both of the new riders. "Alright, so down to business. Do we have names for them yet?"

Thane, who had been silently contacted Evaríncel, perked up instantly, his interest peaked. Strictly speaking, newly bonded pairs could take as long as they wanted to come up with a name for the dragon. Up until that point, the dragon would simply be referred to as "hatchling" or "young one." However, the Riders had quickly discovered that humans, dwarves, and urgals typically came up with their names in the first few hours. Elves tended to take substantially longer. Thane suspected that this was because the elves like to imbue the names with various layers of meaning, which meant that the name had to match the personality of the dragon. He also knew that elves preferred to use the Ancient Language as the basis for their dragon names. Thus, the names required quite a bit more thought to ensure that they were a good fit for the dragon.

As expected, Dane spoke up first. His eyes were bright and eager. "Yeah, we've already decided on Thedric." At the sound of his name, the steel-blue dragon let out a loud squeak, flaring his wings as he swayed on his rider's shoulder.

Thane chuckled. That made sense. The boy had chosen a king's name for his dragon. Thedric had been one of the kings of the Broddring Kingdom and had ruled during the War of Iron. When humans and dwarves had begun fighting over the ore-rich foothills surrounding the Beor Mountains, he had attempted to stop the violence. He had even gone so far as to meet secretly with the dwarf Ivaldn in an effort to prevent a war. Though he had ultimately failed, he was often held up to human children as an example of how a leader should act.

"War benefits no one." Thane's father had always said when recounting the story. "King Thedric knew that, and it is every bit as true today as it was then."

Rok nodded several times, writing quickly in the ledger. "Thedric . . . if I'm not mistaken there was a dragon in the old order with that name. But he was green, if I'm not mistaken. Either way, I'll make a note of it."

Celeste's eyed widened. "Do you know the names of all the dragons ever?"

Rok snorted. "Of course not. That would be an impossible task."

Thane hid a smile as he exchanged a quick glance with his partner. It might be true that Rok didn't know all the names of all the dragons who were part of the Dragon Riders. However, it was also true that he had memorized more of them than even Eragon. It made sense. As a former member of Dûrgrimst Nagra, recordkeeping was in his blood. He had made it his personal task to note the name and color of every dragon ever recorded in any of the annals available. His attention to detail was one of the reasons that he had been selected to ferry the eggs from place to place.

Thane looked over at the young girl. "Have you two picked out a name as well?"

Celeste nodded and mumbled something so quietly that not even Evaríncel was able to hear her.

Rok frowned, leaning forward, "What was that?"

"Her name is Lacerta." Came the whispered response.

_Lacerta?_

"It's a constellation." Evaríncel broke in. "Lacerta is the lizard."

_How do you know that?_ Thane asked, surprised.

"Well, if you want to learn how to fly at night without getting lost, you need to figure out the constellations."

_Ah, good point. _

"You know, I really think that"

Whatever he was going to say was lost as a sharp crack echoed in the room. There was a flash of emerald light as the table and chairs tumbled sideways. Both of the children yelped, diving for the floor. Thane jumped, whirling around as Kveykva sang from its sheath. A few feet away, Rok looked equally startled, the orange blade Myrnen in his hand. In one corner, of the room, the stone floor was scorched. In the center of the circular mark lay a small, stone tablet.

Thane's blood ran cold. Those stone tablets were only used when a message needed to be relayed immediately to another Dragon Rider. It had to be stone, so that the journey by magic wouldn't destroy it, and mirrors would only not be used when Eragon was worried that someone might be eavesdropping.

Rok regained his wits first, quickly crossing the room and picking up the tablet. As Thane already knew, it was imbued with spells so that it would only react when touched by the Gedwëy Ignasia. Rok murmured a quick spell under his breath. Thane saw Rok's shoulders tense as the dwarf stared down at the message. Then he cursed, running a hand through his hair and lowering the tablet. "Well, I guess we knew this was coming." He handed the stone to Thane, who took the parchment and quickly read the lines that Arya had written. He could feel a faint pulse from his partner as Evaríncel looked through his eyes, studying the message. As he finished, he repeated the curse, fighting the urge to throw the tablet to the ground.

"What?" Dane was looking back and forth between the two of them. "What is it?"

Thane had already opened his mouth to tell the child not to worry, but Rok cut him off. "They're technically Dragon Riders now Thane. They'll find out sooner or later, and they have a right to know. This affects them as much as it affects us."

"He's right Thane." Evaríncel said gently.

Sighing, Thane looked at the two young Riders who were gazing up at him. "It's war."

* * *

Again, sorry for the wait. Also, I've been getting quite a few questions about this so I figured I'd best answer it. Several of you have pointed out that I will, occasionally, refer to Keres as Sable. First of all, thank you for the heads up. I'm working on a couple of original stories as well. Sometimes I will be bouncing back and forth, working on both Risa and another story as the inspiration hits me. The main character in one of these stories is named Sable. Hence the mix-up. Apologies for it. As always, please read and review. Thanks guys!


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